Retribution
by schmuck
Summary: Not everyone rejoiced when the Brotherhood of Evil was destroyed by the Titans. There are those who seek vengeance...to be paid in blood.
1. Prologue: Visitations

If you haven't read my earlier books, don't worry about it. This is all you need to know:

Phobia is a dangerous woman who can make people live out their worst fears. She was stopped by Raven (who is the only person capable of resisting her mental powers) and locked up in the prison with a device Cyborg believes can block her abilities.

Speedy is in Jump City tracking an assassin named Deadshot

Raven is once again wearing white robes and has long hair

Robin's chest was severely burned and he's still taking pain medication

And that's it. Personally I don't like wordy introductions, so that's all I'm going to say. Enjoy!

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Raucous laughter and a pungent aroma drifted through the air and permeated the dimly lit room, creating an environment made possible only with alcohol. It was a crowded and noisy bar, a place where a man could easily disappear among the shadows and faces. Sitting at a small table against one of the far walls, Floyd Lawton calmly sipped his foamy drink, barely even aware of its taste. Though no one paid him much notice, Lawton was very carefully monitoring a lone man hunched over a stool near the bartender, who had arrived and ordered a single drink nearly twenty minutes ago.

Though Lawton was a powerfully patient man, and could just as easily have remained still for several hours, he was glad to see the man stand up and place several bills on the countertop. Taking one final gulp, Lawton left his glass on the table and briskly covered the distance to the nearest doorway, sticking his hands into the large pockets of his knee length brown trench coat when he emerged into the cool night air. Only perhaps five or six seconds ahead of him, the other man maintained a slow pace down the sidewalk, unaware of his pursuer. Victor Kurnik, a man in his early thirties, lived by himself in a small apartment and worked the midnight to eight a.m. shift as a guard over at the prison. By all right he certainly did not deserve to die, but what was right meant little to Lawton. Sympathy and guilt never prayed on his mind when there was money to be had.

After several blocks Victor produced a key from his pocket and walked up the small steps that led to his apartment building. By this point Lawton had closed the distance between them and darted through the alley and into the back parking lot of the apartment, already fidgeting with two thin metal tools. The front entrance was too conspicuous—the chances of being seen were high, opening the possibility of a positive identification by the police. Remaining unnoticed to Victor on a darkened street was simple, but it would be impossible in fully lit, narrow corridors. And were Victor to be spooked before reaching his apartment, Lawton would be forced to kill in the open.

Not only would her careful plans be ruined, but Lawton would not be paid. When she hired him and prepared the instructions, she very clearly detailed the necessity of total secrecy in the initial stage. That would only be possible if Victor died in his apartment, where his body could remain undetected for days. For that to work, Lawton had meticulously planned the time required for pinpoint execution.

Fourteen seconds was the limit he had given himself for opening the back loading door, and with a smooth proficiency he inserted the two picks, one atop the other, and while depressing the pins with one pick, Lawton forced the tumbler upward with the other, releasing the bolt. He sprung up from his crouched position and pushed the door open, ticking off the seconds in his head. Approaching the nearest stairwell at a full sprint, and nine seconds slower than was necessary, he knew his target would now be on the elevator, beginning his ascent to the fifth floor.

Lawton flung the doorway open and bounded up the stairs two at a time, passing each level in rapid succession. Slipping the picks into an inside coat pocket while still climbing, he retrieved an 8mm handgun from the back of his belt, along with the cylindrical silencer attachment. When he emerged into the fifth floor hallway, Lawton had overcome the nine second delay and quickly screwed the silencer into place. Down the hallway and around the corner to the left he knew Victor would be preparing to unlock his door. The timing would need to be perfect.

As he took the final step before the hallway turned, Lawton could hear a loud click, signifying the nearest doorway had just been opened. He almost allowed himself a smile before stepping around the curve.

Sheer surprise displayed itself on Victor's face in that first moment, but his facial features tightened into hardened pain as Lawton struck his windpipe with the edge of his flattened palm, severing his ability to scream. Lawton's right leg lifted into the air as he pivoted on his left heel, and he smashed it down against the outside of Victor's kneecap. His leg buckled with a loud crunch and spittle gurgled out of the corners of his mouth, a raspy gasp the only sound escaping his throat.

Lawton grasped the scruff of Victor's jacket and fiercely thrust him forward through the open doorway. He crumpled immediately, sprawling on the floor wildly and frantically grabbing for something, _anything_, his mind unable to process the suddenness, the terror, of the moment. Calmly closing the door behind himself, Lawton raised his right arm and for a brief second moonlight streaming in through the window glinted off the barrel of his polished handgun. He squeezed the trigger twice and two tiny flashes of white punctured the end of the silencer as the bullets coursed outward, piercing the flesh of Victor's back and rupturing his spine and lungs. Two thin lines of scarlet squirted upward and his body jerked forward in a spasm and then lay still on the hardwood flooring. Lawton took several steps and stopped directly over Victor's head, firing one final shot into the back of his skull.

Tucking the gun into the back of his belt, Lawton quickly went to work, gathering Victor's prison guard uniform and identification. It was not long before he finished buttoning the collared uniform and attached a forged ID card to his breast pocket. A quick glance at his watch revealed the time to be 11:23 p.m., which gave him more than half an hour to be on time for his first and only shift at the prison.

Lawton slipped his trench coat back on, stuffed his own clothing into a small duffel bag that he found in the apartment, and quietly exited the apartment, taking care to lock the door behind him.

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"So you're the temp for Victor, huh?"

Lawton nodded and firmly shook the outstretched hand of the beefy man in front of him. "Name's Kirk Anderson."

"Steve Cederstrom," the other man replied. "I got the email earlier today. You have any idea what's wrong with Victor? He seemed okay yesterday."

Shrugging, Lawton said, "Probably a stomach virus or something like that. Those things tend to sneak up on you."

"Sure do." Steve adjusted the brim of his hat slightly and smiled. "You know exactly what you're doing tonight?"

"I definitely do." Lawton took a few steps away from Steve and then looked back over his shoulder. "When's my first coffee break?"

"Two hours."

"Great. See you then."

----------

After a circuitous and meandering walk, Lawton leaned against the wall just down the hallway from a very particular room, watching the time tick by on his watch. Hefty bribery had ensured the complacency of the man in the prison's monitoring room, whose job it was to deactivate the camera positioned outside the room Lawton was about to access. He had no doubts that the man would indeed fulfill his role, for—as Lawton well knew—money was a powerful motivator.

When the agreed upon time arrived, Lawton boldly strode forward to the heavy steel door and slid one of the large keys that hung around his belt into the lock. With a firm twist, the door clicked open and he grabbed hold of the handle, pushing it sideways. Light filtered through the open doorway into a room that was bathed in darkness moments before. The dimensions were small and aside from a decidedly modest bed and slightly beige toilet, it lacked any furnishings.

Though a hired hitman, he could not help but feel a shiver course down his spine at the sight of a lone woman already standing in the middle of the room, staring at him. The shadows obscured the majority of her features, leaving little other than her slender frame visible.

"I could feel you coming well down the hallway," she said softly. "Sooner, if I'd actually been concentrating. You look quite different without all that armour of yours, Deadshot."

"Well, there's a slight conspicuousness when you walk into a prison wearing full body armour," he replied, shrugging.

"And what have I done to merit a visit?" she asked.

"The Brotherhood is being reformed, so it's less what you've done and more what you could do."

"Only two people have the talents and connections necessary to command another Brotherhood so quickly, and I sure didn't organize it, what with my present incarceration. It's only been three months since Paris, certainly not enough time for an unknown entity to ascend the ranks and assume control. That leaves only one individual besides myself with the requisite abilities. Am I heading in the right direction? Should I assume that she's the one in charge of the operation?

Deadshot nodded. "She is."

"And you've come all this way to tell me. The famous marksman downgraded to a messenger boy, huh? Oh this must be so hard for that little self-esteem of yours. Did you at least find a few excuses to kill on your way here?"

"Only one," he said, feigning a pained look.

She let her lips curl upward into a smirk. "She's too smart to figure I'll blindly follow her, and to be honest there's very little she can offer me. So why even extend the invitation? What is it that truly brings you here for me?"

"Personal experience," Deadshot replied. "This entire thing—all the careful extensions and movements—isn't about getting rich through the standard dealings. There's a far more direct aim in mind. Specifically five pompous juveniles."

Though he could not see it, her eyes lit up and the smile grew wider.

Deadshot took one step forward and lifted his finger to point at the woman. "And none of us have the experience against them that you do. She wants your knowledge."

"Understandable. But revenge isn't as profitable as most expeditions. What did she do to gain your loyalty? "

"It's still money," he remarked blandly. "Unlike everyone else, she was fortunate enough to escape the death of the Brotherhood unscathed, and therefore still retains significant holdings. Enough for my services at least."

"Always so concerned with money. You need to expand yourself and be more assertive in your dealings."

Deadshot shrugged nonchalantly. "Nah. Why bother?"

"So will you be freeing me now, or are we going to chat all night?"

"Neither, I'm afraid. She wants to make sure you're the right choice for dealing with the Titans, and that means no free pass. You'll have to get yourself out. I certainly don't doubt that you can, but she seems to think you still have something to prove."

"A trifle, but I suppose I'll play along for now. I also wouldn't mind the opportunity to stretch my wings, so to speak. And once I'm out?"

Lawton fished a slip of paper out from his back pocket and handed it to the woman in front of him. "Go to this address. It's my own personal safe house for when I'm on the West Coast. I also took the liberty of acquiring a new outfit for you. I know how much you seem to enjoy green, so it should suit your tastes. Once you make it there, I'll contact you within a day. Oh, and the man who runs the monitoring room, I promised him money. Naturally I don't want to pay, and we can't have him talking to anyone about tonight's little escapades. So when you do stretch your wings, stretch them in that direction, if you don't mind."

"After such a lovely visit, Floyd, I'll indulge your wish."

Deadshot ducked his head forward in a sarcastic bow and backed out of the room, sealing the door shut, while a quick glance down the hallway revealed that he was alone. Now he faced the unenviable task of maintaining the façade and actually working in the prison throughout the night. Only an hour into his shift and all his objectives were accomplished. Lawton sighed. It was going to be a long and very near unbearable seven hours.


	2. Nightmares Come True

One Night Later

Droplets of rain dotted the window, making only the faintest of sounds with the successive strikes, and each tiny ball twisted its way down the glass surface upon impact, creating a wavy texture. Christopher Klatt stopped on the squeaky polished floor and stared out at the night sky with his hands clasped behind his back. The darkness, combined with bright floodlights near to the ground, made it almost impossible to see the sky itself. Yet Christopher had always enjoyed watching storms, even a weak one. In the distance a flash of sheet lightning ruptured from above the thick clouds, illuminating them momentarily, and several seconds later a pair of soft bellowing claps of thunder filled the air.

Christopher turned away and continued his march down the long hallway, fidgeting with his uncomfortable buttoned shirt and hiking up his large belt, which always tended to drift downward. Every several steps he instinctively placed his right hand onto the handgun that sat snugly against his hip. Caution and preparedness were tremendous assets, and Christopher recognized the importance of continually being ready for action.

He rounded the corner and came out into a much larger room that stood two stories high. The cylindrical steel bars to his left and right reflected the sparse amount of illumination emitted by the ceiling lights, which shifted and changed against the smooth surface as he passed by each cell. Reaching the end of the wide corridor, Christopher slid a heavy steel door open and firmly closed it behind himself, listening for the three consecutive clicks that signified it was properly shut.

Christopher smiled after passing through another set of doors. "Hey Steve. How you holding up?"

Steve lowered his newspaper and set it down on the desk in front of him. "Not well. These night shifts are killing me. You know I'm going to be missing Scott's soccer game tomorrow night?"

"Sorry to hear that, bud. Oh, that reminds me. I know it's late notice, but could you cover my shift Saturday evening? It's Veronica's birthday party. We were supposed to have it Friday, but my parents can't get into town until Saturday morning."

"How old's she turning? Five?"

Christopher smiled. "Yep. And she just wouldn't let us have the party without her grandparents there."

"Yeah sure, I can cover you. But you owe me a six pack for it," he said, pointing a pudgy finger up at Christopher.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, laughing.

"Man, I can't wait until the end of month."

"Damn right. I'm looking forward to working days again."

"And I don't know about you," Steve began, "but this prison really freaks me out during the night. All those crazies in there seem so much worse in the dark. Just glad I'm sitting out here at the computer."

"It's not that bad in there. Mostly pretty quiet these hours."

"You heard anything about Victor? Or that temp Kirk?"

Christopher shook his head. "Nothing. I talked with Kirk a bit last night. Seemed like a good enough guy. God only knows where he is tonight though."

"I should probably fire off an email to the warden."

A soft whoosh to the right caught their attention, and both men turned to see another guard come through one of the doors.

"Christopher. Steve," he said, nodding his head at each.

"Evening Sebastian," Steve said. "How's C Wing treating you? Still difficult to see what—"

A bone-chilling scream echoed against the solid walls and rattled through their heads, its sheer intensity terrifying the three men.

"What in God's name was _that_?" Christopher asked frantically.

"Hell if I know," Sebastian said. "Come on, we've got to—"

"Oh shit!" Steve screamed, firmly grabbing the handle of his gun and yanking it from its holster. Even through the dancing shadows on the far side of the room he could see a sleek, muscular black Doberman charging toward him, its thick paws smacking hard against the solid ground, bubbling spit and foam pouring out of its mouth. Steve squeezed the trigger and discharged his handgun, feeling the muscles in his arms twitch with each successive shot from the kickback. Bright flashes erupted from the end of the barrel, spewing metal. Steve frantically back pedalled, releasing round after round, and was horrified to see that none of the bullets struck the ferocious beast.

"Steve!" Christopher shouted. "Stop firing God damn it!" A loud ricochet snapped off an angled section of wall and he instinctively thrust his arm upward and ducked. "What the hell are you firing at? There's _nothing_ there!"

"Get the gun from him!" Sebastian screamed, clutching Christopher's shoulder and screaming over the shots. When the words had left his mouth he whipped his hand away suddenly, stumbling backward with utter terror displayed in his wide eyes and drooping mouth. He fell to the ground hard and wildly scrambled away on his palms and the heels of his feet. "Oh God," he whispered. "Oh God, oh God."

Sebastian's stomach lurched violently as he continued to stare at Christopher, watching with agony as his flesh peeled away, melting off in a bloody mess that steadily exposed grey bone. Christopher's eyes slid out from their sockets, pulling sticky strands of skin with them, and cracks appeared in his skull that fractured into pieces. Brain matter oozed out from beneath and stuck to the pulpy mass that rapidly lost all traces of cohesion and crumpled to the ground with a disgusting squishy sound, collecting in a pool of crimson and pink.

Christopher scrunched up his face and he stared at Sebastian in total incomprehension, so taken aback that he could not even find words to say. Sebastian repeatedly hollered and cried out in a frenzied manner, lacking total sanity, and Christopher was at a loss as to what he should do to calm him. Resolving to find him help momentarily, he turned toward the greater threat and moved quickly to disarm Steve before he accidentally shot one of them.

Before he could even take one step forward, a wall of magnificent orange flame surged around the nearest corner, overtaking the small room with breathtaking speed. Christopher screamed out and leapt over the desk to find shelter from the intense heat, shattering the computer monitor and severing cables. The door to his right exploded off its hinges and the metal wickedly contorted and crumbled against the opposite wall, letting fire erupt from the now empty frame.

"Get out of there, Steve!" he shouted madly, sticking his head above the top of the desk. Incandescent yellow and orange plunged against Steve and his body burst into flame, and he stumbled for a short distance with his hands waving savagely above his head. A soft cry came from his mouth and then he collapsed to the ground. Fire had already engulfed Sebastian, who struggled to put himself out, desperately slamming into the wall and leaping onto the floor. Christopher coughed from the billowing smoke that filled the air and tears rushed out of his eyes.

----------

The Doberman pounded against Steve's chest, aggressively knocking him over the top of the desk and flat onto his back. He flailed and thrust his arms out in front of him as the vicious creature lunged at his throat. Warm breath coursed over Steve's face, spittle dripped onto his skin and barks pierced his ears. He squeezed the dog's throat with all his strength, pushing against its onrushing force. Its jaws glistened with saliva and small bursts of steam curled upward from beneath its lips. Steadily the Doberman's mouth grew closer and closer, and Steve's muscles ached from the strenuous exertion. He shut his eyes, waiting for the final, horrific end, and screamed.

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Sebastian wailed hoarsely, suddenly no longer pulling himself backward. His own skin was peeling off before his eyes, smeared across the smooth flooring. He reeled in abject terror when his right shin faded away, leaving the entire limb below the knee detached from the remainder of his body. Sebastian screamed hysterically, holding his hands in front of his face. His nails slid down the back of his fingers, while the tips of the extremities melted. Within seconds his hands were no more than wavy, squirming lumps. His screams echoed loudly until his jawbone disconnected on the left side, flopping to the right and silencing his cries.

----------

Christopher clutched at his throat, hacking and wheezing through the thick black plumes that surrounded him. Fighting against the depletion of energy reserves that came with lack of oxygen, he managed to crawl to the door that led back into the prison's first set of holding cells. He reached up and slammed his palm on the door's release, distraught to find his way continued to be blocked by the thick door. Christopher rose to his knees and pounded his fists on the metal, all the while feeling the intense heat of encroaching flames. The skin of his back tingled slightly, then burned ferociously, creeping up his spine, eating through his polyester uniform and taking the very flesh off, and then steadily the feeling turned once more to a weak tingling as he lost the ability to register pain.

----------

The solid door quietly opened, revealing the frame of a slender woman. She peacefully walked forward, pausing for a moment to stare disdainfully down at the man writhing in agony at her feet, and then stepped over him, ignoring his screams and cries for help. To her right another man lay silently, his body twisted and contorted awkwardly. The woman delicately moved toward the computer desk, picked up a pen in her left hand and scribbled four words onto a scrap of paper that she tore from a clipboard. Bending down, she folded it twice and tucked it into the breast pocket of the prone guard's shirt, slightly higher than a small nametag that read 'Steve Cederstrom'.

She stood up and spun on her heels, now facing a third man whose entire body shivered and convulsed with spasms repeatedly. Her face betrayed no emotion, but remained stoic and uncaring. Slowly she reached up past the pink crescent scar that emerged from beneath her hairline and placed her fingertips on the thin grey band that circled her forehead, lifting it away from the forest green hair that was now nearly long enough to brush against her shoulders. With a fluid determination she placed the device onto the deep brown desk and strode forward to the door that led out of the prison.

As she walked, Phobia allowed herself a smile.

----------

"Well?" Robin asked, standing with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. "What's wrong with it?"

Cyborg fiddled with the metal band, turning it this way and that, and carefully examined it with an eye for detail that only its designer could achieve. "Nothing," he replied, clipping it onto his waist finally. "There's absolutely no problem with the band. Mechanically, electrically, it's all working fine."

Raven softly cleared her throat. "Could she have temporarily turned it off?"

Shaking his head, Cyborg said, "No, that didn't happen. The specifications chip has been operating at normal capacity. Any change, however subtle, would automatically be recorded for future reference. But there hasn't been a change since we fitted Phobia with it."

"Therefore she removed it without altering it in any way." A lock of red hair fell out from behind Starfire's ear and brushed against her cheek. "She managed to take the device off while it functioned at full."

"Exactly," Cyborg remarked. "And that leads me to only one assumption."

"She's far more powerful than we thought," Robin interjected. He ran his gloved hair through spiky black hair and turned around. "Are we almost ready with the surveillance equipment?"

A tall and lanky middle-aged man poked his head up from behind a computer terminal. "Just about," he replied. "A lot of it took quite a beating, but I think we should be able to see most of the camera feeds in no time."

"Good. Let me know the moment you've got picture." Robin circled around Cyborg and Raven so that he was now facing four men, three of whom were in suits, while the last was wearing the standard dark blue that signified he was a prison guard. "Captain?"

The shortest, and most decidedly bulbous, of the men shuffled on his feet in the middle of taking a sip of coffee and nodded at Robin as he walked over to him from the other side of the room.

"How are the guards doing?" Robin asked.

"It's iffy," Captain Marshall answered. "Rick over there is having a bit of trouble with all this. He was the closest guard to Phobia without actually being put through any of her twisted visions." He paused for a moment to glance back over at the guard, who was visibly uneasy and continually rubbed his face and scratched at his head: a definite sign of stress and rattled nerves. "But he heard all the screaming and saw most of the men after they'd been put through hell. Not an easy thing to see.

"The rest are much worse. Eight have serious injuries. Two are physical, and six have severe mental trauma. Paramedics are still in the process of assessing them." Marshall rubbed his temples and closed his eyes for a moment. "On top of that three guards were killed. One had a heart attack, one shot himself through the mouth, and the other died from severe head wounds. He's a bloody mess, and so's the wall by his body. Near as we can tell he hammered his own head against it repeatedly until he lost consciousness and bled to death."

"Interview every paramedic once their work is done, even if you have to recall them from the hospital to the station," Robin said firmly. "I want to catalogue every bit of information we can get regarding the visions each victim experienced. We'll need to begin building a more substantial portfolio of Phobia."

Marshall nodded. "I'll have my officers round up the paramedics once the guards have been taken to the hospital. And I'll conduct interviews with the doctors who see to them as well."

"Good. Everything needs to be recorded, however irrelevant it seems."

"You'll have it all by tomorrow."

"And the prisoners?"

"All of them are still here. Phobia's the only one that got out. One prisoner is dead though."

"Sir?"

Robin arched his head around, looking across the room toward a row of computer monitors and the source of the voice. "Have you got the camera system operating again?"

"We have," answered the lead technician, standing to his fully impressive height of nearly six and a half feet. "Two of the camera feeds are still unresponsive, but all the others are up and running." He grabbed the back of a swivel chair nearby, pulled it up to the computer terminal that controlled the monitors, and sat down.

Robin moved toward the screens, ignoring the splash of ruby that clung to the nearest wall. The corpse of the guard who formerly monitored the computer room had already been removed, but the hideous wall splatter from the bullet that blew out his brains remained.

As the five Titans gathered around the embankment of screens, Robin said, "Start with the camera nearest to Phobia's cell, and shift from one to the next so that she constantly remains in view."

The technician interlocked his fingers and pushed his palms outward, nosily cracking all his knuckles, and then hit several buttons in rapid succession. Nearly every monitor hummed to life softly, and on each of them a still image popped up. "Unfortunately we don't have sound on any of these." He pointed to a screen on the bottom row. "Here's the view outside her room."

Phobia's room had no bars, no windows. It was merely a solid wall with a steel door, and even that had no slits at the top or bottom. For several long moments there was nothing on screen, and then abruptly a prison guard slammed into the outside of her door. He punched and kicked at it, and from the movements of his head and what little they could see of the side of his face it was obvious he was screaming. He continuously and frantically looked to his left and after repeated glances he finally unclipped the keys on his belt. His hands shook uncontrollably and he jammed several keys against the lock unsuccessfully before one finally fit into place, all the while continuing to kick at the steel. Again his head snapped to the side.

"He thinks something is chasing him," Raven remarked.

The door slid open and the guard threw himself inside, reaching back to seal himself in, but the moment his feet touched the floor a flash of orange struck him hard from the side and he crumpled into a heap.

Phobia stepped into the doorway and bent down facing away from the unconscious man. Her hands were bound behind her back and she very carefully felt around for the set of keys that he had brought with him. She moved quickly and smoothly, testing each key until the shackles released her hands. Phobia stood up and stepped out from her cell, twirling the keys on her pointer finger for a few seconds. The standard issue bright orange prison jumpsuit hung loosely on her. She began to walk down the hallway but stopped after three steps and turned to stare directly at the camera. Wearing a devious smile on her face, she blew a kiss.

After five or six more steps she was gone from that camera's line of sight and the technician pointed several screens over on the upper row. "She'll appear on this one in a moment."

The view of her afforded by that screen was fleeting, lasting only a few brief seconds.

"Play all of the monitors at once," Robin said. "But keep showing us which one she'll remain on."

Led by the computer technician's finger, the Titans tracked Phobia's steady pace from one camera to the next, but constantly glanced to the other screens, where for the moment guards remained attentive and in their positions. Casually Phobia found her way down each hallway, not even bothering to look to her side at the cells. Soon she reached the largest concentration of cells, where the lower security prisoners are kept. Rather than steel doors, bars lined these rooms, and after passing several she stopped in front of one. A man with black tattoos running down the length of his thoroughly muscular arms leaned against the bars, obviously talking to her.

There was no sound and Robin leaned forward squinting his eyes in an effort to read the man's lips, but the camera had too wide a field of vision, leaving his face tiny on the screen. When he finished talking though, Robin could clearly see the man lick his lips.

Phobia slid over to the cell and gracefully placed her right hand between two of the bars, resting it on the man's shoulder, while her left hand slinked up his other arm. Very tenderly she ran both hands upward to the back of his neck and pressed her body up against the bars, and all while his eyes stared longingly downward. For a moment she pulled him closer to her, and then her hands clamped onto his neck like a vice grip. His face crashed against the bars and immediately his arms shook wildly as he tried to pull away from her. She wrenched his neck sharply while he was still awkwardly off balance, easily snapping it. Her hands released his head, now contorted wickedly to the side, and he fell backward dead.

In the same frighteningly calm manner that she continually displayed, Phobia promptly turned away and proceeded to once more walk down the hallway.

"Killing is so simple a thing for her," Raven whispered.

It was not long before a veritable hell broke loose on the monitors. The confusion was total, the chaos complete. Guards on nearly every screen stumbled over the ground frantically, fought against invisible assailants, clambered away from unseen horrors, sobbed pityingly in the corner, fired shots into the shadows. Starfire found her eyes wander unwittingly to the poor soul who smashed his forehead against the wall continuously, sending out a fine spray of bloody mist with each successive strike. She gasped and turned away from the screens with her hands covering her mouth, overwhelmed by the shocking violence.

Beast Boy calmly placed his hand atop her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Robin retained his composure without difficulty—he had seen far worse images in Gotham—yet the scenes were nonetheless disturbing. He had twice been put through Phobia's twisted mental anguish and personally knew how devastatingly hard it was to not succumb. The sights were too powerful, too corrupting.

Gradually the terror subsided, leaving most guards unconscious, dead or wracked with uncontainable and irrepressible fear, and Phobia appeared beneath the camera that looked out into the adjoining room. Robin watched intently as she picked up a fountain pen and scribbled on a small scrap of paper torn from a clipboard. Phobia folded it, bent down and placed it in the breast pocket of the man who lay upright against the wall.

"Has that body been searched?" Robin asked firmly.

"I, uh, I don't know," replied the technician.

Robin backed up quickly and leaned to the side, staring out through the open doorway. The corpse was no longer in its place, but four large black body bags lay on the ground nearby. Captain Marshall, along with three paramedics and one of Jump City's coroners, stood above them.

Robin jogged over to them and pointed behind the desk as he spoke. "Which of these bags has the guard who was right over there?"

One of the paramedics looked down and quickly scanned the bags. "The one who had the heart attack? Uh, number three," he said, pointing. "This one right here."

"Open it," Robin instructed.

The paramedic bent down to his knees and pulled the zipper the full length of the bag, revealing a chubby face that had already grown pale. Robin pushed past the edge of the bag and reached over the man's chest to his pocket. Sliding his gloved fingers into it, he retrieved a small slip of paper and unfolded it.

Knowing the other Titans were already standing behind him, Robin said, "The note was meant for us."

"What does it say?" Raven asked.

Robin half turned and placed the paper into Raven's outstretched hand, where the others could also see it. It contained a mere four words, all in capitals.

I'M COMING FOR YOU

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Anyone who's read my earlier books will know that I've pretty consistently made promises to update my stories quickly and then failed miserably at doing that. But this time will be different. I swear! I am going to upload one chapter every Saturday (or possibly Friday or Sunday if I'm out of town), so expect chapter two on April 25.


	3. Hostile Environment

Magnificent rays from the early morning sun silhouetted the massive Tower, creeping around its uniform edges. The effect created a thick outline of black around the structure itself, contrasted sharply by the intense yellow and orange that rushed outward. A cool breeze drifted across the surface of the clear water, tossing about the small waves, and a faint mist blanketed the rocky shoreline.

Jinx ran her smooth, pale hands through the mess of pink hair that decorated the top of her head and let them fall onto the back of her neck. She looked skyward for a moment and sighed heavily.

Kid Flash grinned at her from the side, firmly holding his hands against his hips.

She caught his glance and half turned her head. "What?" she asked light heartedly.

"You don't have to be so nervous," he replied.

"I have every right to be nervous," Jinx said defiantly. "They hate me."

"They don't _hate_ you."

Jinx silently scowled at him and raised her left eyebrow.

Kid Flash raised his hands in mock defence. "Okay, so you're not their favourite person. But I still wouldn't use the word hate."

"I would." She silently shook her head. "They're going to be suspicious of me."

"Of course they will."

"Thanks," Jinx said with a sarcastic smile. "That's really very reassuring."

"Yeah, that came out a little wrong," Kid Flash replied, scratching the back of his head. "What I meant to say is that they're probably a little suspicious of everyone. I'm sure they'll be watching me too. Maybe not as much as they'll be watching you," he said with his mouth spread wide in a jesting smile, "but still a little."

Jinx gave him a half smile and then turned back to look at the Tower.

"Besides," Kid Flash continued, "they're going to want the information we brought with us. And I'm sure they'll want a little extra help too."

----------

Robin held a gloved hand over his left ribcage, subtly gritting his teeth and breathing through the burst of pain that shot up his side. The severe burns that had nearly taken his life continued to take its toll on him, periodically putting him through splitting discomfort or dull aching. He let his breath out slowly and held his composure, determined that his suffering should remain unknown to the others. Robin was never one to ask for help in the best of times, least of all when a criminal as dangerous as Phobia was loose in his city. Better that the Titans' energy and thoughts be focused on her rather than their physically distressed leader.

Gathering his thoughts at the prison's main doorway, Robin walked over to where the others stood by the T-Car.

"So how do you want to handle this one?" Cyborg asked.

"We already know that we're the targets in this, and other than Raven all of us are vulnerable to her images, so it'd be too dangerous for us to split up to track her down. For now we're going to stay together, head back to the Tower, and wait."

"The note she left could be a distraction to hide her true intentions," Starfire said.

Robin shook his head. "Seems unlikely. So far she hasn't shown any interest beyond us. And when I talked with her two months back, she openly admitted she was holding us responsible for the disintegration of the Brotherhood. Phobia claimed she was going to act on that."

"She could be lying about that too," remarked Beast Boy.

"I'm with Robin on this one," Raven added, flicking long strands of purple hair away from her face. "Phobia is arrogant. She doesn't care how much we know about her. She's also totally sure that she'll eventually kill each of us, so it doesn't matter if we know her intentions."

"Which is why the Tower is the safest place for now, until we can either come up with a solid plan, or have—"

Two sharp beeps from Robin's communicator cut him off mid-sentence. Plucking the small circular device from his belt, he flipped it open to find Speedy on the other end.

"I've got something that you really need to see," he said immediately.

"Deadshot isn't the priority anymore, Speedy. And I'm going to need you back at the Tower."

"No, you don't understand, Robin. You _have_ to see this. It involves Phobia. I'm at 2948 Thom Gardens Court, apartment 521. Speedy out."

Robin kept the communicator on only long enough to see Speedy's face vanish amid hazy grey static before he affixed it to his belt once more. "I'm going to check this out. Get back to the Tower and stay there until you hear from me."

Nodding their assent, the others climbed into the T-Car and sped out of the prison's front courtyard, leaving behind a trail of dust and bits of gravel. Robin patiently waited until the moment they were no longer in sight, and then slumped forward slightly. He reached into one of the compartments on the back of his belt and retrieved a small container. The lid twisted off easily and Robin let one of the circular white tablets fall onto the palm of his hand. He popped it into his mouth and swallowed quickly, returning the container to its designated pouch.

The familiar numbing sensation settled over his body, taking away all traces of pain. He closed his eyes for a moment and took several long breaths. As he walked over to the R-Cycle he was only vaguely aware that he could not feel the bottom of his feet touching the ground. Having grown accustomed to the powerful effects of the drug, he paid it no mind. What mattered—indeed, the only thing that mattered—was that he could function at his peak now. Pain was restricting, kept him from performing the tasks required of him. In his mind, any detrimental effects of the drug were drastically overshadowed by the benefits, which allowed his body to forget its formerly perilous wounds.

Placing his rounded blood red helmet atop his head, Robin thought about the frustratingly shortened length of numbness granted by each pill. Two months previously, when Cyborg had first prescribed he take the opioid analgesic Meperidine—more commonly known by its brand name Demerol—the effects of one dose had continued for a satisfyingly long period of nearly twelve hours. That amount had remained even for nearly three weeks and then slowly, but steadily, dipped, leaving him currently with four hours of relief if he was lucky. While he felt pain free with only two tablets a month earlier, more often than not he now took six in a day. Such was necessary to maintain the rigorous remands he faced daily.

The R-Cycle shifted slightly when Robin hefted one leg over top of it and sat down atop the seat. He deftly flicked his wrists while gripping the handles and a brief, but powerful, spark of noise settled to a gentle hum as the heavily modified engine pushed life into the rest of the machine. The back tire sprayed fragments of gravel backward and squealed amidst its speedy start up, surging forward with tremendous momentum. Robin manoeuvred around two large prison transport trucks and four smaller police cruisers, already approaching top speed before he had rushed through the main gate, which stood open in anticipation of his approach.

The winding road curled through the majestic emerald hillside, revealing the cityscape beyond, and possibly, Robin mused, some trace of Phobia.

----------

Unoccupied police cars greeted his approach to a small apartment building on Thom Gardens, in the heart of the suburbs that ringed downtown Jump City. Two police officers stood between the cruisers and the front entrance of the minor edifice, while bright yellow police tape cordoned off the remainder of the perimeter.

Robin left his vehicle alongside the sleek yellow and red motorcycle that was unmistakably Speedy's and marched up the sidewalk to the officers.

"Good morning, sir," said the female, whose double chevrons indicated her position as corporal. "Forensics has the entire building locked down. Speedy is anxious to show you the scene."

"What happened here, Corporal?" Robin asked.

"Homicide. I don't have many details though; they just needed some extra officers in the area."

Robin tilted his head in the briefest of nods and strode past into the apartment building, finding two elevators directly ahead of him. After a short ascent he stepped out onto the fifth floor, where another officer directed him down the hallway to his left. Approaching apartment 521, several voices grew in volume. Robin stepped through the open doorway, ducking slightly under another line of police tape, and immediately Speedy looked up from a crouched position beside a man and a woman wearing modestly plain clothing.

Beside the sole of Robin's right boot, a thin line of crimson snaked its way across the floor to a large pool that had collected beneath the body that lay before him. The man was facedown in the dried puddle, and the lower half of his left leg was contorted sharply to the side. Two red circles on his upper back, smudged so closely together as to almost be indistinguishable from one another, decorated the light green shirt he wore, and a strip of blood emerged from the bottom of the hairline on his neck.

Speedy carefully sidestepped around the corpse. "These are Detectives Frances Norman and Blair Crocker, both with JCPD Homicide," he said, gesturing to the two individuals with him.

"You don't have to introduce me to Detective Norman," Robin replied. "She and I have worked together a few times before."

"Always a pleasure, Robin," Frances said politely. She tugged at the bottom of her black blazer, pulling it tighter over the maroon dress shirt beneath. "So what do you make of this?" she asked, pointing down at the body.

Robin cocked his head and slowly let his eyes drift over the unmoving features. "No forced entry into the apartment; two bullets to the back in nearly the same spot and one into his head; there aren't any signs that there was a struggle in the room, and it doesn't look like there's any blood splatter beyond the immediate vicinity of the body. All that points to a professional job."

"Exactly the same conclusion we reached," Detective Crocker asserted.

Robin knelt down beside the body and leaned in close to the face. "Based on the discolouration of his skin he hasn't been here for too long. Two days at the most. And there's a fair amount of bruising on his throat, centred directly over his larynx."

"The assassin would have hit there first, cutting off his vocal cords," Speedy said, pacing around the opposite side of the body.

"No witnesses?" Robin asked, looking up.

"None," Frances answered. "No one saw a thing."

"It's a very clean job," Robin said. "Far too good for most of the criminals in the city. Looks like Deadshot's handiwork."

Arms enmeshed across his chest, Speedy said, "I'm sure of it."

Robin stood up. "Who discovered the body?"

Frances flipped open a small notebook. "Daniel Jones, one of his neighbours. He was supposed to meet up with him yesterday after dinner. After trying to call him for a while, Jones used a spare key to get inside just before eleven o'clock last night. Police were on the scene within twenty minutes." She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 7:53 A.M. "We've been here for the last hour."

"So who's the victim?" Robin inquired. "And what warranted Deadshot's personal attention?"

"That," Speedy began, "is where it gets very interesting. And it's why I called you here." He handed Robin a driver's licence. "His name is Victor Kurnik. He was a guard over at the prison."

Robin quickly looked up from the card in obvious surprise.

"He'd recently been moved to the night shift," Speedy continued. "Two nights ago he didn't show up for his shift. That didn't raise any suspicions at the prison because earlier in the day the warden's office received an email from Jump City Memorial Hospital, saying that Victor had admitted himself several hours prior to that with an unusual heartbeat, and that he would remain there for observation over night. But the hospital, obviously enough, has no record of him being there. I did a quick check of the ISP number, and the email that the warden got didn't even come from the hospital. An outside source hacked into the hospital's network in order to forge the email."

"We put our tech guys to work on it about half an hour ago," Crocker said. "They haven't come up with anything so far, but based on how good the job was, they figure the ISP number of the hacking computer, and everything that goes along with it—the make and model, its location—is untraceable."

"There's more," Speedy added. "After the warden's office received the forged email, it sent out a legitimate email to Wright and Pinto—it's a private firm that handles security and surveillance for all the large corporations in this state. And it's just about the only place that the prison could get a replacement from on such short notice. Wright and Pinto has actually contracted temporary guards out to the prison in the past anyways, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact, they're given a small tax break each time they contract to a state or federally run institution."

"Have you been in contact with them already?" Robin asked.

Frances tucked a strand of copper hair behind an ear. "I called their head office and they claim never to have received an email from the prison."

"We think Deadshot intercepted and deleted it," stated Speedy. "And then for the finale, he hacked into Wright and Pinto's server and sent another forged email back to the warden, which said the firm received the email and would be sending someone to cover the night shift. Again, Wright and Pinto's offices haven't sent an email to the prison in the last few days."

Frances flipped her notebook closed and slid it into the inside pocket of her blazer. "Even in the aftermath of last night's escape, I was able to access the prison's records, which do show that someone arrived at the prison on time for Victor's shift. He had proper authorization documents, which said his name was Kirk Anderson. I have an interview lined up with one of the fulltime guards who's currently being treated for relatively superficial injuries at the hospital. I'm hoping he can examine some photographs and confirm that it was Deadshot who entered the prison. At this point though, we are assuming it was him. The murder and forged emails all provided Deadshot with a way into the prison that wouldn't arouse suspicions. Posing as a guard, he'd have all night to do whatever his job was."

"And all of you believe Deadshot was looking for Phobia?" Robin asked.

"It can't be coincidence that she freed herself only a single night later," Crocker remarked.

Even behind the mask that covered his eyes, Speedy's face was a sullen serious. "Deadshot went to a lot of trouble to make contact with Phobia. We need to face facts here, Robin. Deadshot and Phobia aren't working alone anymore."

Robin shut his eyes and ran his hands through the spiky hair atop his head, tilting his head upward to the ceiling and sighing loudly. "We have to get back to the Tower and brief the others on what's happening. I'm going to need to get a much closer look at the file you have on Deadshot, and it's important that you find out everything we know about Phobia. We'll have to coordinate our actions closely from now on, which means you don't act as an independent agent tracking Deadshot any longer."

"You got it," Speedy answered, adjusting the composite bow that rested over his shoulders and atop his quiver.

"Detective Norman, I want you to contact me as soon as you finish talking with the prison guard."

"We've pretty much gotten all the information out of this apartment that we're likely to," Frances said. "As soon as you leave I'll be on my way to the hospital, so expect the information shortly."

Robin turned his attention to the other officer. "Detective Crocker, head over to the prison. We examined all the video footage from last night's escape, but until now we had no reason to look at the previous night. Find out as much as you can from the camera feeds and report back to me."

Crocker nodded brusquely and ran his right hand over his carefully trimmed beard. "Captain Marshall should still be there too. I'm sure he'll want to find out about all this."

"Good," Robin said, making his way toward the door. "Be alert everywhere you go. We're dealing with dangerous criminals here. If you get close to them with any leads, do not engage. Leave it to us."

"Will do, Robin," Frances said. "Good luck."

"You too."

----------

"Um, so do you think we just knock or something?" Kid Flash asked, pacing back and forth in front of the massive Tower entrance at a speed that was surprisingly irritating to Jinx.

"You're way too hyper active," she said slowly.

"Stop talking so slowly."

"Why?" Jinx asked innocently, intentionally spreading the syllables out in a painfully long manner. "Does…my…slow…talking…aggravate…you? Maybe…in…the…same…way…your…constant…movement…irritates…me?"

Kid Flash smiled widely, showcasing the perfect white teeth behind his lips, and dashed over to where Jinx stood, kissing her on the tip of her nose and then speeding away before she could even react.

"No fair!" she protested, waving her hands. "You can't do that if I can't defend myself."

"Don't lie," Kid Flash said, holding his hands on his hips. "You like it."

Jinx smiled and laughed lightly. "Fine."

Kid Flash shrugged. "I'm just trying to cheer you up a little."

"Thanks."

"But you still haven't answered my question, little lady. How do you think we get in?"

"You're the one with the communicator. Give that a try."

"You know, I've never actually used this thing," he said, fishing the small device out from the back of his belt and flicking it open. He raised one of his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "I'm not even sure I know how."

"I thought you had used it."

"They've called _me_ on it. That's easy—I just need to open it to answer. But I've never had to contact them. Should I just push a few buttons?"

"Why not?" Jinx answered. "It's not like it does anything else. I'm sure even you couldn't find some way to melt it."

"Here goes," Kid Flash said, pushing down with his forefinger on one of the buttons. He waited for a moment with heightened anticipation, but the screen remained black. "Ok, here goes again." Kid Flash pressed the button opposite the first with his thumb, and immediately the screen sprang to a fuzzy grey static. "Success!"

Cyborg's metallic head materialized into view and his face lit up with a smile. "What's up, KF?"

"Yo Cyborg," he replied.

"Haven't seen you for a while. How's Central City treating you?"

"I'm actually not there right now, so I couldn't tell you."

"That so? Where you at then?"

"Your front door," Kid Flash answered. "Just wondering how I open it."

"No kidding," Cyborg said with an even larger smile. "Sit tight for a few minutes. We'll be landing on the roof shortly, so we'll all come down to meet you."

"See you in a few." Kid Flash shut the communicator off and clipped it back on his belt. Looking over at Jinx, he could see she was visibly more nervous. "They'll be fine with you being here. I promise."

Jinx forced herself to smile, but remained silent.

After a wait of slightly more than five minutes, they could feel a slight vibration in their feet and several pebbles and rock fragments bounced and shook on the ground. The massive steel doors rumbled and slowly parted, revealing the four Titans that stood on the other side.

Raven's eyes narrowed to slits, aimed directly at the pink haired girl standing off to the side behind Kid Flash. "You never mentioned that _she_ would be here," Raven said, her words filled with venomous hatred.

"Well she is," Kid Flash answered defensively. "And _both_ of us have important information to give you."

"Rae," Cyborg started, "we can trust her. Let's just talk a little and I'm sure—"

"Not in front of her," Raven said sharply, keeping her eyes focused on Jinx. "Stay out there. We're going to talk about this inside." Raven strode over to the wall keypad and punched in three numbers. She glared menacingly at Jinx as the space between the doors gradually shrank to a narrow gap and then sealed completely.

Raven walked back over to where the others stood. "She's not coming in here."

"Hold on, Raven," Cyborg said, putting his hands up. "We have to at least give her a chance."

"Jinx has shown much sincerity," Starfire remarked. "I agree she should be given an opportunity to prove that she is trustworthy."

"She worked for Slade," Beast Boy said quietly. "And Brother Blood. I don't know if we should trust her."

"Come on," Cyborg said exasperatedly. "She turned her back on them. Jinx joined us."

"So did Terra!" Raven barked. "I never trusted her, I never wanted her to join us." She thrust a lithe finger into the air, stabbing it at the other three. "But each of you vouched for her and said we could trust her. And look where that got us."

Starfire took a step closer to Raven. "Terra did help us in the end. Without her we may not have defeated Slade."

"Only after she nearly killed all of us! The only reason she even had the opportunity to turn on Slade was because she failed to murder us." Raven sharply turned her ahead away from the others. "I'm not going to let it happen again. I can't give her a chance."

Cyborg shook his head. "But Jinx didn't change sides in a position of strength. She came to us when it looked like the Brotherhood might actually win. She risked everything. If Jinx really wanted all of us dead then she would have stayed with the Hive and the Brotherhood."

"You don't know that," Raven replied indignantly. "For all we know she may have feigned her betrayal just so she could get close and weaken us even further. After we destroyed the Brotherhood she would've had no choice but to stay with us and keep on pretending that she was genuinely on our side. Just look at what happened in Paris. She appeared at the very last minute. It was already obvious that we were going to win. Then she helped attack a few stragglers, just in an attempt to solidify her position. None of it impresses me. I'm not fooled by her."

"I'm with Raven," Beast Boy declared. "Phobia's out there and wants to hunt us down. We can't take the risk and let Jinx in now. Both of them worked for the Brotherhood. Jinx could want us dead just as much as Phobia does."

"None of you know her like I do," Cyborg said. "I actually had the chance to spend time with her, and I think we can trust her."

"That's what you're basing this on?" Raven countered, ire covering every word. "She thought you were a criminal. Of course she's going to damn well be friendly to you! That proves nothing."

"There was more to her," Cyborg retorted, raising his voice. "She wasn't just a criminal."

"What happened when she finally found out who you were?"

Cyborg looked away, but the animosity on his face was still plainly visible.

"What happened?" Raven asked again, staring directly at Cyborg.

"She left," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"She turned her back on you! All that time with her, all that time you thought was spent developing some sort of bond, it meant nothing to her."

"No," Cyborg answered, finally returning Raven's icy stare. "There was more to her. Jinx looked right at me when she left. I saw something in her. Like some part of her wanted to stay with me, but that she knew she couldn't."

"She's a petty bitch who's thrived on destruction her entire life. All those times that we've fought her, and not once did she ever consider holding back. She's tried to kill every single one of us. She's tried to kill _you_, Cyborg," Raven said, pointing at his chest. "And you actually think now she's a wholesome person? Suddenly Jinx wants to be kind and helpful and devote her life to stopping evil? That's a joke."

"I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt," Cyborg remarked. "Besides, Kid Flash said they had information for us."

Raven waved her hand dismissively. "Who cares? With Phobia out, nothing else matters."

"And if it has something to do with Phobia?"

"What are the odds of that being true?" Beast Boy muttered.

"Use whatever arguments you like," Raven began, "but none of them matter. I'm never going to trust her."

"Do all of you trust Kid Flash?" Starfire asked, carefully watching the facial expressions of her friends.

Cyborg nodded immediately, as did Beast Boy.

Raven remained silent for a moment, methodically pondering the inquiry. Gradually her face transformed from one of fury to a blank, impenetrable gaze. "I trust him enough."

"Then should we not trust his judgement?" she asked, shifting her eyes between them with each word. "He is the only one of us who has spent time with her recently. His opinion and belief in Jinx's genuineness should be taken into account. Is it right to condemn Jinx so easily when a trustworthy Titan seeks to defend her?"

Beast Boy's scowl softened somewhat, and his head nodded in a very subtle fashion. "Maybe Star's right."

"So now you want to let Jinx in?" Raven demanded.

Beast Boy lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. "I still don't know if I trust her, but if Cy and KF feel that strongly about her, I'm willing to give her a chance."

"As am I," Starfire asserted.

Raven shook her head adamantly, boiling over in frustration. "Do what you want then. But when Robin gets back he has the final say. Until then I don't want to see her anywhere near our rooms or equipment."

"I can live with that," Cyborg said.

"And if I ever see her alone in the Tower—at any point, in any spot—I'm going to consider her hostile. You can go ahead and tell her that yourself."

"Rae, you have my word that she'll be with one of us at all times."

Raven stepped close to Beast Boy and stared directly into his eyes. "How did it feel when the girl you loved betrayed you to Slade?" Wearing the same expression of vexation, she moved in front of Starfire. "And how did it feel when your own sister left you to rot in some prison cell? Remember what that pain, those betrayals, felt like, because this time it's going to be much worse. When it happens again you'll both know that you had a chance to put a stop to it." Raven turned away in disgust and marched off toward the elevators, not bothering to glance back.

"She'll come around eventually," Cyborg said.

"I doubt it," Beast Boy replied. "And I'm not even sure if I will. Cy, are you completely sure about this?"

"I trust her," he answered.

"No doubt at all?"

Cyborg shook his head. "I think she's genuine."

"Okay, then let's find out what they have to say." Beast Boy walked over to the keypad and rapidly typed in a command.

The gigantic doors split apart and daylight streamed into the cavernous room, greatly overtaking the mild intensity of the artificial lighting. Kid Flash and Jinx stood up from a nearby rock and made their way over to the entrance.

"We've agreed to let the two of you in," Cyborg said. "And we're going to trust Jinx."

"Glad to hear it," Kid Flash replied. "You're not going to regret it."

"What is the information you have brought for us?" Starfire asked.

"We've been following a woman named Vala Jast for a while."

"We probably wouldn't have even told you guys about it," Jinx said, "except we found out that she used to be connected to the Brotherhood of Evil."

"Anyways, seems Vala's made her way west, and now it looks like she's in Jump City." Kid Flash shrugged. "It might not be anything big, but we figured that you guys should know about it. Just in case something comes up."

Jinx furrowed her eyebrows when she saw a look of trepidation spread across the faces of the other three Titans. "You guys look pretty spooked. Is everything okay?"

"Star, go tell Raven what's happening. BB, contact Robin and tell him to get back here immediately." As they rushed off into the Tower, Cyborg turned back to Kid Flash and Jinx. "Get inside now."

"Cyborg, what's going on?" Kid Flash asked.

"Speedy tracked Deadshot to Jump City two months ago. And then last night Phobia escaped from the prison. We didn't think that either was connected, but now that makes three former Brotherhood members who have simultaneously converged here."

"Do you have any idea what's happening?" asked Jinx.

"None. But Phobia swore revenge on us. If she's managed to enlist the others, then we're facing a serious force."

"What do you want us to do?" Kid Flash inquired.

"Get inside and wait until Robin gets back. Then tell us everything you know about Vala Jast."


	4. Confrontation Between Friends

Frances slipped a short silver key into the lock below her door handle. Twisting it to the side, she tugged softly and the car door popped open.

Having followed her around the hood, Detective Crocker placed his hand on the top of the door, holding it in place. "How well do you know the Titans?"

"Pretty well," she answered. "At least Robin."

"And do you trust them?"

"Absolutely. And you should too, Blair. I know you've spent most of your career in Anaheim, so you're not used to people like them. You were transferred here about a month ago, right?"

"Five weeks ago, yeah."

"You'll come to depend on them like we do. It just needs a little more time."

"Why did you start trusting them?"

"It was in the middle of summer last year. The Cassamentos, one of the Five Families from Gotham City, organized a heroin shipment that was going to come in at our docks. Robin was the one who brought it to our attention, and I was placed as one of the lead detectives. Along with three others, it was our responsibility to learn exactly when and at which pier the drugs were landing. When they came we hit it with several squads and managed to successfully confiscate the entire shipment, the entire crew of the freighter, and most of the men hired by the Cassamentos. But we didn't get all of them.

"Robin knew the Cassamentos would be after revenge, and so he divided the Titans up, ordering each one of them to follow the four detectives, myself included, who organized the operation, until all of the men were arrested. We had no idea about any of this. Six days later I was attacked by three men outside my house. Robin appeared from out of nowhere and brought all of them down in seconds. I took a bullet in my left arm from one of the thugs, but he saved my life that night. The next day I learned that the other three detectives had all been attacked at the same time, and that Starfire, Cyborg and Beast Boy had been responsible for saving each of them. Raven meanwhile had tracked down five other Cassamentos who weren't taking a direct part in the assassination attempts and had dealt with them.

"No officer in Jump City can do what those Titans are capable of. We need them. And I trust them completely."

"Okay," Crocker said. "Then I'll trust them too. It's just hard to be around them. The entire department in Anaheim saw them as vigilantes."

"Even if they didn't have the support of the JCPD and the mayor's office, I'd still trust them." Frances sat down in the driver's seat and started the ignition. "Make sure you do the same, and I promise that you'll see amazing things."

Detective Crocker smiled. "Good luck at the hospital," he said, shutting Frances' car door. As he walked over to his own car and climbed in, he watched Frances disappear down the road.

----------

"And you're sure of her connection to the Brotherhood?" Robin asked.

"One hundred percent," Kid Flash replied.

"I'm glad you brought this to our attention," said Robin. "Because it changes the entire situation."

"I've never even heard of this Vala Jast," Speedy remarked.

"She covers her tracks very well."

"Where are the others right now?" Robin asked.

Kid Flash nudged his thumb over his shoulder. "Everyone's in the Operations Room, waiting for you. They've already loaded all their files into the main computer."

Robin nodded and walked past Kid Flash to the double doors just down the hallway, which parted at this approach and revealed the command centre for the entire Tower. Speedy and Kid Flash trailed several steps behind him.

Not content to waste time, Robin quickly spoke. "With the addition of Vala Jast, it's now pretty obvious that Deadshot's arrival and Phobia's escape aren't coincidences. We're dealing with something much bigger than three criminals. I think we've all reached the same conclusion that they're working together.

"But what's even more unsettling is that all three have past connections with the Brotherhood. The worst case scenario is that the survivors are reforming themselves into a new organization. And if I had to guess, I'd wager they see each of us as most responsible for the collapse of the old Brotherhood."

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Raven asked, "So what's the plan, Robin?"

"First, information sharing. The eight of us here are obviously targets, so it's essential that each of us share what we know. But we can't assume the three of them are the only threats. It's just as possible that there are others already here, and finding them is going to be step two. Cyborg, once we've gone over Phobia, Deadshot and Vala Jast, I want you to start a search for likely other candidates. Access every file in every database you can find for other possibilities."

"Since that'll give me way too large a field, I'll narrow it down by limiting my search at first to only known Brotherhood associates who weren't arrested in Paris, and see what that gives me."

"Good," Robin said, turning toward Speedy. "You're up first."

Speedy tossed his bow onto the nearest counter and approached the main computer, bringing up a picture of a man with several clicks on the keyboard. The man was strikingly handsome, with jet black hair and a meticulously well kept thin moustache. Even through the clothing he wore it was obvious his muscles were tremendously well formed.

"Floyd Lawton, AKA Deadshot. His birthday and place of birth are unknown, but our best guesses place his age at around thirty-four. Whereabouts of his parents are unknown, as is the number, if any, of siblings he has. Unfortunately for us, the man is a complete mystery. Our first record of him is from thirteen years ago, when four similar assassinations were linked to one person. Within two years he had developed his own personal trademark."

Speedy tapped several keys and the screen changed images, showing a single bullet shell standing upright. "His preferred method of assassination is by a 30.06 sniper rifle. Each time he does this, Deadshot leaves behind the casing for the bullet fired, always standing, and always with an intricately carved D.S. on the side of it. After finding several of these, detectives realized that he left them in the exact spot where he took the shot. There was a reluctance to believe this at first, simply because many of them were found in utterly obscene places that were so far away from the target, or at such an awful angle, that no one wanted to believe any sniper was capable of successfully making those shots."

"So Deadshot actually leaves all these clues behind to be found?" Cyborg asked.

"His arrogance is incredible," Speedy answered. "He _wants_ us to know where his vantage point was. He doesn't just take down his targets. He's showing off when he does it, and he's constantly trying to outdo himself. Every time he can find a new way to kill or take a shot from an even greater distance, he's bragging.

"Let me just give one example. His first assassination in Gotham is still generally regarded as his most impressive." The screen changed to show the interior of an office building, where one man in a stylish tuxedo lay dead on an elevated stage. "This man took a single bullet in his forehead. Not terribly impressive from this angle." Several clicks on the keyboard changed the angle to another position within the office building, looking out through the massive windows circling the floor. A small hole was visible in the glass, beyond which was the Gotham cityscape of skyscrapers. "The bullet came right through here," Speedy said, pointing at the tiny circle on the window. "If you look carefully you can see the Gotham River through the space between these two skyscrapers. And if you really look carefully you can see the bridge connecting the two islands. What you can't see from this angle is the Ferris Wheel across the river on the other island. That's where Deadshot positioned himself."

"That's an impossible shot," Kid Flash said in disbelief.

"Careful examination showed that it was possible. At a particular elevation on the Ferris Wheel there's a perfect line through the cables and girders on the bridge that leads between these two buildings and straight into the office building. But the shot's only possible for less than half a second. And just as an extra touch, Deadshot split a wine glass with the same bullet just before it killed the victim."

"What was his involvement with the Brotherhood?" Raven asked.

"Contract killing. He did jobs for them occasionally. If there was anybody that the Brain, Mallah or Rouge wanted eliminated, they'd generally get Deadshot to take care of it. Money is his only motivation. Deadshot doesn't have an ideology of any kind. He'll kill criminals and mob bosses just as fast as police officers and government officials if there's money in it. If he's working with Phobia, you can bet there's a money source somewhere, because he doesn't hold grudges or vendettas unless he's paid to. The destruction of the old Brotherhood just meant a change of employer to him."

"Is that a possible way to get rid of him?" Robin inquired. "Find the money source and cut it off?"

"It might be," Speedy replied. "If there was a way to stop him from getting paid, I'm sure he wouldn't stick around."

Raven crossed her arms over her chest. "And if there isn't a way?"

"Then he'll be difficult to stop. Ollie admitted that Deadshot is the best shot he's ever seen."

Jinx leaned in close to Kid Flash and whispered, "Ollie?"

"Oliver Queen," Kid Flash whispered back. "The Green Arrow."

"If you can see him," Speedy continued, "no matter the distance, he can bring you down."

Speedy turned his back to the others for another moment, while he inputted several more keystrokes. "This is what his body armour looks like." Dark burgundy covered his entire body, while interconnected silver bands wrapped around his arms and upper legs. Two brilliantly polished silver barrels extended down his right forearm and out over the wrist. The burgundy armour came to an abrupt halt at the edge of his neck, from which point silver rose upward and covered his entire head. An intricate silver and red eye piece decorated the right side of his face.

"Aside from the weaponry he already carries, these wrist mounted guns are particularly dangerous. His sniper rifles and handguns are generally slow firing, but these ones are rapid fire, and can put out a hell of a lot of rounds in short order. I'd love to get a hold of that eye piece of his and see what it can do. All I can be sure of is that it's technically very advanced. There are days when all he wears on his head is the eye piece, rather than the silver plating, and he usually wears a long brown trench coat as well. Don't let the simple looking armour fool you—a few months ago he took a glancing shot from one of my arrows and didn't even seem to notice."

Speedy depressed one last key and the screen faded to black.

Robin looked over to his right, where Kid Flash and Jinx were sitting on one of the sofas. He merely nodded his head, and they stood up and walked toward the screen, passing Speedy as he returned to his own seat.

Jinx tapped quickly on the keyboard, producing an image of a beautiful blond haired woman. The image was very slightly blurred, and appeared to have been captured by a security camera. Sturdy black and red armour coated her upper body, hiding her frame beneath the thick metal. A tight black bodysuit extended out from the armour and over her arms and legs, leaving no skin exposed. Separate red plates decorated her upper arms, forearms, thighs, shins, and the backs of her hands.

"This is Vala Jast," Kid Flash said. "She's an operative who worked exclusively for the old Brotherhood."

"And she'll do any job," Jinx added. "Sometimes it's killing, sometimes it's bringing in someone still alive, and sometimes it's breaking into a secure location to steal or get information."

Kid Flash cleared his throat. "This woman is dangerous. The list of her skills is longer than my leg pretty much. She's a marksman, an infiltration and escape expert, she's great with demolitions and sabotage, deadly at hand to hand combat. She can do anything."

"Do we know anything about her past?" Beast Boy asked.

"Actually, we know a fair bit about it," Jinx answered. "She was born in North Carolina as Pamela Mateev on May 22, 1982. When she was sixteen her abusive father killed himself, and she was left with a mother who blamed her for what happened. She left home a year later and wandered around, popping up at different jobs over the next two years. In 2001, when she was nineteen, she joined the army, and showed a lot of potential in training. Within a month she was promoted to leader of her squad. Unfortunately for her she faced a lot of sexual discrimination, so that was as far as she got. A year later she was still in the same spot, watching guys that she outperformed, and sometimes even trained herself, get promoted instead of her."

"Eventually she couldn't take it," Kid Flash said. "One day a Corporal that had originally been in her squad told her she wasn't going to get anywhere unless she started sleeping with the officers, and she lost it on him. He ended up in the hospital for a night with a concussion."

"She was supposed to face insubordination and assault charges in a military tribunal, but she disappeared the night before." Jinx shook her head. "And the army never found her. She was only twenty, but she already had two years of experience being on her own, and now she had military training as well."

"But that's where the trail gets cold," Kid Flash remarked. "If she had any normal jobs, she sure didn't use her real name. We don't know what happened for the next while, but she made contact with the Brotherhood at some point. And we have no clue if she built the armour herself or got it from them. Four years ago she popped up for the first time as Vala Jast, but it took more than a year until a security camera got a good enough picture of her face that she could be identified as Pamela Mateev."

"An interesting side note," Jinx said. "Every one of her targets that we know about, every single one, has been male. We have no idea if it's just coincidence, or if her experiences have caused her to develop a serious hatred for men."

"When the Brotherhood collapsed she completely vanished. Up until a week ago, when she was spotted three times within five days. The first two times were at airports, and the third was a train station a few miles out of town. So we knew Vala was here."

"What kind of weapons is she packing?" Cyborg inquired.

"We're not really sure," Jinx answered. "We were only briefed on her two months ago, and we've never seen her in action. She's beaten incredible security, so we know she has pretty impressive tools. Various bodies that she's left behind have had gun, knife or strangulation wounds. But from the evidence, it does look like she prefers close kills."

"Any idea what her motivation in all this might be?" questioned Robin.

Kid Flash shrugged. "Beats me. Because of army records we know way more about her past than we know about what she's like now. We can only guess."

"I have a bit of a theory that she might just feel strongly dependent on the Brotherhood," Jinx said, stepping away from the keyboard. "They took her in at a time when she was wandering and completely alone. Everything she did was for them. With the collapse of the Brotherhood, the few surviving members adjusted things and kept going on their own. But Vala disappeared and has only emerged now."

"When it looks like a new Brotherhood is being formed," Robin interjected.

"You got it." As Jinx shut off the image of Vala Jast, she said, "She must have a deeply rooted attachment."

"Raven?" Robin asked, shifting his stance to look over at her.

The lithe Azarathian pushed herself away from the kitchen counter and lightly walked over to the screen. Immediately the monitor shifted to an image of a beautiful woman with forest green hair that covered her ears and fell nearly to her shoulders. Just above her right eye a crescent laceration appeared from beneath a thin grey metal band that encircled her head, which was itself barely visible underneath the thick hair that hung over her forehead.

"This picture, taken three weeks ago in the prison, is the most recent one we have of Phobia. The band was meant to prevent her from using her powers, but we found it after she had already escaped. She is by far the most dangerous surviving member of the Brotherhood, and can easily force you to live out your deepest and most terrifying fears. But she doesn't just project images into your mind. The vision is powerful, but not enough just by itself. It's what she does to you emotionally and mentally. She manipulates you, twisting your emotions, so that you honestly believe what you see is real, no matter how much you don't want to."

"I've experienced her visions twice," Robin said. "And the second time I even knew about Phobia's abilities and what to expect. But I just couldn't tear myself away from the absolute conviction I had that what I was seeing was real."

"Cyborg and Starfire have also been through it," Raven said, pointing in their direction. "It's horrific to see what frightens you the most." She paused and gently rubbed her pointer and middle fingers against her temple, vividly remembering the first vision Phobia inflicted on her, which showed her demonic father Trigon returning to their realm amid fire and death. The fact that even someone who possessed tremendous mental powers of her own could be subjected to such suffering was an indication of just how potent Phobia was.

"Her actual name is Angela Hawkins. She was born into an extremely wealthy and influential family in England. Apparently her father was disgusted by what he called her 'deformity,' and kept her hidden from all his friends. When she was still a teenager she murdered them both in cold blood. Their bodies were never found. With her abilities comes an utter lack of a conscience. She's callous and has no regard for human life. Deadshot and Vala Jast kill when they're paid to, but Phobia will do it for no purpose.

"On top of that, we already know that all she's after is revenge. The Brain was good at finding loners and creating strong ties of loyalty. Just like Vala Jast, Phobia was taken in by the Brotherhood when she had no where else to go. The only thing she wants is to make us suffer. And because of that we need to be extremely careful when dealing with—"

Robins' communicator beeped loudly from inside his canary utility belt. Taking it in his hand and flipping it open, he looked back up at Raven. "It's Detective Crocker. Keep going, Raven." Hearing her words steadily grow inaudible, Robin passed through the double doors that led into the hallway and looked down at the metal device. "What have you found, Detective?"

"I've been reviewing the prison's security tapes with Marshall from two nights ago. Deadshot appears definitively on nearly every one, while impersonating a prison guard, just like we expected."

"And the camera positioned directly outside Phobia's room?"

Crocker shook his head. "Well, Deadshot's never actually _shown _entering her room, but we're sure he entered it. There's a very subtle and well hidden loop feed in that camera. For less than five minutes it recycled and recorded the same image, making it seem as though the camera was viewing an empty hallway. The loop almost guarantees that he visited her."

"That proves it then. They're working together."

"Looks that way."

"Have you heard anything from Detective Norman?"

Crocker furrowed his forehead. "You haven't heard from her yet?"

"No," Robin said. "And it's beginning to worry me."

Crocker shrugged. "She's probably just been delayed at the hospital. The guard she was supposed to talk to may still be getting treatment." Seeing Robin's face betray a deep sense of anxiety, Crocker asked, "You think something might be wrong?"

"I'm not sure. But try to get in touch with her."

"You got it. I'll let you know as soon as I know something."

"Thanks." Robin snapped the communicator shut and slid it back onto his belt. Entering once again into the Operations Room, he could hear the discussion surrounding Phobia continue.

"—we did that?" Kid Flash asked.

"Way too risky," Raven replied. "I'm the only one who can see through her illusions, so no one goes after Phobia unless you're with me."

"Raven's right," Robin added, stepping down the stairs. "She can handle Phobia's mental powers. Raven is the only one of us who's going to engage her. If Raven's not right at your side, don't go looking for that woman. The rest of us will focus on the others."

"What did Crocker have to say?" inquired Speedy.

"Deadshot made contact with Phobia the night before her escape," Robin answered. "There's no doubt anymore that they're working together, so we need to get moving. Cyborg, start your search for others. Everyone else, take some time to put any necessary gear together."

Speedy listened intently, even though his eyes steadily drifted downward, caught by a fleeting motion at Robin's side. If he had seen correctly, the movement was definitively recognizable, and all too familiar. Keeping his eyes locked on Robin's left hand for a moment, Speedy briefly let doubt creep into his mind, wondering if he had merely imagined the sight. Just as he developed a sense of hope that he was wrong, Speedy once again saw Robin's left hand tremble slightly. It was no more than a twitch, and Robin immediately balled the hand into a fist, yet Speedy knew his first suspicion proved accurate. His heart rate sped noticeably quicker with the sense of dread that fell over him. Speedy sought desperately to resist the urge to think the worst, but a gnawing sensation—telling him that the tremble was not due to mere stress—remained upon his mind.

Lost in his thoughts, Speedy did not hear the final thing Robin said. While the others began moving off in various directions, Speedy stood and trailed after Cyborg.

----------

Failing to hide the contempt from her expression, Raven stared directly into Jinx's eyes, catching the smaller girl somewhat unprepared. "Don't you _dare_ leave this room," Raven said through clenched teeth.

Raven marched past the couch where Kid Flash and Jinx sat. "Robin," she said, closing the proximity between them to such a meagre distance that a whisper would suffice. She paused for a moment, waiting for Beast Boy and Starfire to leave the room.

"What is it, Raven?" Robin asked.

She locked her eyes with his. "We can't trust her."

"Jinx?" Robin took a deep breath and did his best to speak with confidence. "We can't get into this now."

"I'm not going after the new Brotherhood with her near me. There's no way."

"I want to give her a chance."

Defiance shone within her eyes. "Are you willing to turn your back on her?"

Robin remained silent.

"You can't be!" she hissed. "I know you're not. She has Cyborg and all the others fooled. She's playing them. But you can't let her do it to you. You can't."

"We're not turning away help now," Robin finally answered. "I know you hate her, and I know you're not likely to build trust, but we're going to need the two of them in all this. Jinx stays."

Raven exhaled. "I hope you're not wrong about this." She looked back over her shoulders through eyes shaped as mere slits. While Robin made his way toward the hall, Raven took several steps toward Jinx and leaned in, nearly close enough for her to feel the warmth of Raven's fiery breath. "I don't care what Robin says," she remarked softly, her tone more incensed than a loud volume could ever achieve. "You do anything to make me believe you're a threat, anything at all, and I'll bring you down myself."

Without allowing even the briefest of pauses, in which Jinx may have been capable of responding, Raven twirled on the balls of her feet, whirling her cloak about her body, and promptly walked across the floor, up the stairs, and out the door that would eventually lead to her room, and the blissful quiet that came with it.

----------

"Hey Cyborg," Speedy said, following him out into the hallway. "Can I ask you something?"

Cyborg turned around and looked down at the archer. "What's up?"

"Is Robin—" he caught himself as the doorway whooshed open behind them, revealing Beast Boy and Starfire. Once the other two Titans had passed by, Speedy continued. "Is Robin still taking his medication?"

"Nope," Cyborg answered. "He's been off painkillers for three weeks now."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive. I started lowering his doses five weeks ago, and then took him off them completely two weeks later."

"His burns were pretty severe."

"Robin's a tough customer. He got through it well enough." Cyborg studied the other man's expression, engaging himself in a mental debate over what Speedy's face revealed. Mere curiosity? Or was it something deeper, more grave, bordering on desperation? "Why do you want to know? Something up?"

Speedy answered quickly, but with enough hesitation that Cyborg's suspicions remained alert. "No. It's nothing."

"Alright," Cyborg said slowly, unsure whether to believe Speedy. "Well, I've got a bunch of stuff that needs doing," he started, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder, "so I should get to it."

"Yeah. Yeah, go do that. I've got to get some gear ready anyways. Just ignore what I said." Speedy stood still long enough for Cyborg to disappear around a corner. When he was out of sight and Speedy was alone, he quickly darted through the hallway to Robin's room, leaping down a short flight of ten stairs and skidding to a halt on the soles of his boots.

The grey door before him softly slid open and Speedy stepped forward. Robin's quarters were immaculately kept, each of his possessions having a highly specific place in the carefully ordered environment. Only a cursory scan of his dresser was required to reveal nothing on the top that was likely to hold pills. The same was true of the desk on the other side of his bed. Not knowing how long it would take for Robin to come to his room, Speedy was substantially limited in the areas he could search. Moving on pure gut instinct, he lifted the square pillows on the bed and checked underneath them. Other than a mattress, nothing was uncovered by the action.

Hearing the door parting behind him, Speedy thrust the pillows back down and whirled around to find Robin entering.

"What the—" Robin muttered, nearly withdrawing into a fighting stance, so taken aback to find a figure in his room was he. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to ask you a question, Robin," he answered, stepping forward. "And I need you to be honest with me. This is important."

Robin raised an eyebrow, examining Speedy carefully, but did not yet speak.

"The painkillers Cyborg gave you."

"What about it?"

"Are you still taking them?"

"What? No. I stopped using them weeks ago."

"That's exactly what Cyborg said."

"Then why are you even asking me?"

"Problem is I don't believe you."

"Were you searching my room just now?" Robin demanded, the irritation in his voice plain.

"Stop taking the pills," Speedy said flatly.

"Get out." Robin spat the words, quickly losing his temper.

"You can't keep taking them!" Speedy shouted.

"_Get out!"_

"You have _no_ idea what this shit does to you!"

"_Now!"_

Speedy opened his mouth to return fire with a salvo of words, but thought better of it and simply left the room, glaring deeply through his mask at Robin, who met the stare for every step.

Robin winced and clutched his ribcage the moment the door shut, finally able to stop withholding the fierce pain creeping up his torso. His fingers were already numb, making it all the more difficult to grasp the container at the back of his belt. He fought through the trembling in his arm and the sudden feeling of light-headedness, barely able to twist off the lid that stood between him and the relief he found himself in desperate need of. Robin thrust the top of the container over onto his other hand, shaking out one small circular tablet, which he forcefully gobbled into his gaping mouth. Closing his head and taking a deep breath, Robin let a much needed calm settle over him.

----------

Feeling his skin heating with scalding rage, Speedy forcefully squeezed past the door into Cyborg's room, too impatient to wait for the automatic opening procedure to finish, which had suddenly become too slow for him. "He's lying," Speedy announced before Cyborg had even turned away from his computer screen. "Robin's lying about the Goddamn pills."

"Speedy man, I'm telling you Robin isn't taking them."

"I know he is," the archer responded. "I just know it. I don't care what you say, and I don't care what Robin says. He's still using them."

"Where is this even coming from?" Cyborg questioned.

"Show me his medications."

"Are you serious?"

"Cyborg, where do you keep them?"

"They're in the medical bay, okay? But I can't be bothered with all this crap right now, so just let it go. I know all the pills are still there. And you want to know why? _Because Robin stopped taking them already_. I'm not wasting my time with this."

"I'll find them myself then," Speedy announced, whipping around and heading into the hallway once more. He made short work covering the distance to the medical bay, only slowing to let the door whisk open in front of him, and found that Cyborg had quickly caught up to him as he shoved open the nearest cabinet.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" he demanded. "You're worrying about drugs with everything that's happening?"

Speedy continued to rummage through the drawers. "Can you just trust me on this?"

Cyborg's irritated expression softened slightly. "Will you drop it if the pills are all there?"

"Yeah."

Shutting the cabinet that was already open, Cyborg moved over to another, flicked it open, and shifted his gaze from one container to the next. Finally he picked one up from the bottom shelf and shook it in his hand. "Meperidine. It's right here."

"Open it." Seeing Cyborg's growing frustration, he added, "Just to be sure."

Cyborg twisted the lid off and looked at the mess of pure white tablets. "All here. Just like I said. Now for the love of God, can you stop the—" He cocked his head to the side while continuing to stare into the container.

"What is it?"

"These aren't the right pills. They're too oval. Meperidine is perfectly round. Look."

Speedy took the small plastic bottle and felt his fist clenching it tightly. Sure enough the pills were slightly off in shape. Near circular, but not exact. "Son of a bitch. I _knew _he was doing it behind your back."

"God damn it," Cyborg muttered. "This is my fault. I knew Meperidine was powerful, and that there was a good chance of addiction to it. I just…I thought Robin would be strong enough. And addiction's rare in cases of acute pain—it usually only ever happens with chronic."

"We need to get him off this right now," Speedy said angrily.

"Speedy, the guy's addicted. It's not Robin's fault—he can't help himself."

"It _is_ his fault. You think justifying his addiction is what we need right now? That it's going to help in any way?"

"I don't want to make him out to be some villain in this. He went through sheer hell when he was burned. You weren't here when that happened. You didn't see it. Robin needed pain killers. It was the only way he was ever going to get through it."

"He's been lying about everything!" Speedy shouted. "Robin's coming in here, taking all the painkillers, and then replacing them with who knows what. You don't think he has a real problem?"

"I'm just not sure that a confrontation is the way to go."

Speedy held up the open bottle and shook it violently, tossing two of the white tablets onto the floor. "Do you want Robin to be fighting an addiction with all the shit that's about to be dropped on us?"

"Would you rather him be fighting through withdrawal?"

"Withdrawal is terrible," Speedy answered, turning away from Cyborg. "But I've seen where continued use can lead."

"What?" asked Cyborg. "Speedy, what's going on?"

Speedy looked back over his shoulder. "Finish your search. I'm going to talk with Robin."

Without saying another word Speedy left the room, already feeling a thin layer of sweat building over most of his body. Accompanying this was a steadily elevating pulse rate, thumping so vehemently that he could feel the vibrations through his throat and into the pit of his stomach. Painful memories flooded his mind, bringing with them powerful feelings of remorse and self-loathing. A sense of depression that strong opened doors to horrific venues, none of which could bring any healing, but rather served only to ignite further anxiety, stress, and ultimately an agonizing road to defeat.

Speedy clearly recognized the necessity of using his personal knowledge to dissuade Robin from continuing to abuse painkillers. The mantle of an addict was a terrible thing to live with only if he failed to use it as a preventative measure against another's slip into darkness. And he hoped to do just that.

It was bad enough that his thoughts were utterly scattered, but Speedy's own memories, terrible as they were, clouded his mind. Consequently, he did not know what he would say when he stepped into Robin's room. Indecision, combined with feelings of anger stemming from his own experiences, would breed nothing but an inflamed argument between the two, especially given the near certainty that Robin would continue to deny his addiction.

The time for thought vanished when Speedy stopped in front of Robin's door. He took one last look at the container of fake Meperidine—courtesy of Robin—that he held in his right hand. Proof, Speedy thought. Proof was what he needed if he had any hope of gaining the high ground in a confrontation with an addict.

Speedy slid the door open, knowing Robin's eyes would burn into him like razor blades in a moment's notice. He recognized the importance of control in a situation like this, which meant that Speedy needed to speak first, constructing his words in such a way that it put Robin on the defensive immediately. "I know you're still taking the pills, Robin, so don't waste your breath trying to deny it."

"Damn it, Speedy, I _told_ you—"

Speedy held up the container directly in front of Robin's face. "And I know you've been filling the bottle up with fake ones so Cyborg doesn't clue in."

Robin's face grew noticeably ireful, filling with white hot rage.

Feeling his own anger mounting, Speedy turned and whipped the bottle across the room. It slammed into the far wall, tossing three dozen pills in every direction and messily spreading them over the floor amid faint clattering sounds. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he furiously demanded.

"What the hell are _you_ thinking?" Robin retorted. "None of this is your concern."

"You made it my concern," Speedy shot back, thrusting his pointer finger toward the other man. "When you chose to put the lives of everyone at risk. You're the leader, Robin. Doesn't that mean anything to you? You're throwing it all away with your addiction."

"I'm not addicted to anything!" Robin furiously shouted.

"Is that what you honestly think? That you don't have an addiction?"

"I need the painkillers. They're the only thing that keeps me going."

"Cyborg said you stopped needing them three weeks ago."

"He doesn't understand the pain I'm going through."

"No," Speedy said, shaking his head. "Cyborg knows the pain you're in. He's probably the only person who does. But he also knows how damaging extended use of painkillers can be. Especially one like Meperidine. That's what you can't seem to understand."

"I still need it!" Robin snapped. "I'm not abusing anything, okay? When I don't need them anymore, I'll stop. But until then, I'm going to keep taking them."

"Can't you hear yourself? You're dependent on them and you don't even realise it."

"You have no idea. Don't lecture me about something you know nothing about. Just don't."

"Think so?" Speedy questioned angrily. "That I don't know about this? I do know. I've been exactly where you are now. Only thing is I was worse off. Much worse. _So don't you tell me that I don't know what it's like!_"

Robin opened his mouth but was cut off by the sound of his communicator before he could utter so much as a syllable. He grabbed the round device from his belt and held it in the palm of his hand for a moment. Finally when he thumbed it open he asked, "You have more information, Detective Crocker?"

Crocker was visibly shaken, his face noticeably pale even on the small monitor. "She's dead," he hoarsely answered. "Frances is dead."


	5. First Strike

Fun Fact: In the old Titans comics, Speedy actually was addicted to drugs for a short while. I discovered that a while ago and immediately came up with the idea to have him confront Robin. So if anyone isn't happy with the thought of Speedy as an addict, it's actually from the comics.

And I meant to mention this after the last chapter, but then forgot. The near miraculous assassination that Deadshot committed in Gotham City that Speedy described last chapter is actually from the anime collection of short films called "Gotham Knight." I believe the one with Deadshot is just called "Deadshot." It's quite enjoyable. You get to see Deadshot make that ridiculously amazing kill, and then later Batman kicks the crap out of him (naturally).

----------

"Oh Jesus," Robin said in a hushed voice, feeling the strength in his knees failing.

Speedy's face softened and all the rage that had boiled within him evaporated, leaving a hollowness in his chest that was quickly filled with pure anguish at the loss of Frances.

"What happened?" Robin asked faintly, barely pushing the words past the uncomfortable lump that had appeared in his throat.

"Frances was found dead in her car a block away from the hospital. She was…" Crocker bit his lip, finding it hard to continue. "She was shot in the head. Died instantly." He let a long breath escape his lips. "It was a sniper rifle round. It was Goddamn Deadshot that did this. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!"

"We'll get him," Robin said, little more than a whisper. "I swear to you that we'll bring him down."

"Whatever it takes," Crocker said firmly, gritting his teeth. "I'll do everything I have to. That bastard has to pay."

"He will. Blair, I promise he'll pay."

"How? We need to move now."

"We're still working on it," Robin answered. "I'll contact you when we have something concrete."

Crocker simply nodded.

"Stay safe." Robin clicked the device shut and bowed his head.

"I…I'm sorry," Speedy said. "I know you were close with Frances. And I'm sorry for what I've said. I just don't want you to make a mistake you'll regret."

Robin looked up, no longer feeling the same festering rage toward Speedy that existed only moments before. "I know you do."

Speedy let out a deep sigh. "I used to be an addict, Robin. I've lived through the pain, and seen what it can do…and what it can make anyone do. I hate myself so much for what I once did, and I just get furious when I think about it. I guess that's why I acted the way I did with you."

Robin found his face assuming the posture of sympathy. "What happened?"

"You remember Donna Troy?"

"Wonder Girl? Yeah."

"It was back when I was still dating her, about three years ago. Ollie had always been like a father to me. He practically raised me. But he started going through a tough time, and we drifted apart. It was rough on me, but I had Donna, and she kept me strong. But then she ended things between us, and I just fell apart. I already felt alone because of Ollie, but without Donna I didn't have anyone. I was a mess.

"I thought what I needed was a boost. Something to make the days less painful. I didn't think it would mean anything, and I thought that it'd be easy to quit when I decided to. So I found some heroin and started taking weak doses. For the first few days it really worked. The way I saw it, it was just something that would help lift me up a bit. You know, make me feel better. And it worked. I didn't seem to feel as awful. But before I knew it, I was dependent. Every couple of days I'd have to increase the amount I took, and little by little I turned into an addict.

"Eventually Ollie found out about it. He said I was nothing but a disappointment and told me to get out of his life forever. Lucky for me, Dinah felt pity and took me in. She cared for me and helped me fight my dependency. The first month was a nightmare, but by the second things actually started to improve. I felt cravings less and I wasn't so angry. She helped me believe in myself again, about how I could make it through pain on my own. Without her I'm not sure what might have happened to me.

"Robin, do you trust me?"

"Yes," he answered.

Speedy extended his right hand toward Robin. "Then give me the pills. Please. Let me help you."

Robin stared down at Speedy's outstretched palm, letting a wave of doubt rush through his mind. Finally relenting, he reached behind his back and slid the small metal canister off his belt. He held it tightly for a moment, feeling the strength that came from its ability to heal. Robin wanted so badly to continue to believe that very thing was a necessity to him, that the drug's strength had to be utilized if he were to have any chance of being in peak form and bringing the horror around them to an end. Though agonizing over his decision, Robin placed the container into Speedy's open hand.

"I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but I swear that you did the right thing."

Robin weakly nodded.

"Get some rest," Speedy said, slipping the canister onto his own belt. "I'll check up on Cyborg and see if he has any names for us."

While walking out of the room, Speedy felt infinitely calmer than walking into it.

----------

The material felt smooth over Phobia's skin, and she stretched her arms to their fullest extension, feeling it cling tightly to her. She would be comfortable in the unassuming, decidedly plain outfit. Its shade was that of the darkest forest, and it left no flesh exposed below her neck. Deadshot had proved himself useful indeed.

Now out of the disgusting prison issued orange jumper, Phobia took in her surroundings more methodically. Deadshot's safe house had been easy enough to find, and it came to represent the very image she had pictured—that of sparsity. It utterly lacked even the simplest furnishings or comforts, leaving a bland, uninviting space. A lone section of the apartment stood closed to her, sealed by an imposingly barricaded door. She could only imagine that room contained Deadshot's equipment and supplies, a cache too valuable to leave accessible to her. While they did exercise a considerable level of trust toward one another, it did not warrant more than a routinely basic working relationship. Phobia was a masterful manipulator and reader of emotions, but she was no skilled infiltrator, and thus her ally's secrets and tools remained hidden.

Her mind's wanderings abruptly ended. She could feel Deadshot's presence, growing ever closer. Nearly silent in his entry, Phobia heard but a faint click before the door opened and Deadshot strode into the apartment.

As he sealed the door behind him, he said, "I knew you'd have no difficulty."

"It warms my heart knowing I don't disappoint you," she replied sardonically. "Though I can't say the same for the amount of time you've made me wait."

"If you recall, I said I'd come within a day. Considering you've waited what, five hours tops, I'd say I've done a damn good job."

"The wait would have been longer, if I'd been given a simple way to even enter."

Deadshot waved his hand nonchalantly. "I had faith in your abilities. You should show more gratitude though, given that I've found you a gift."

"Oh?" she inquired.

Deadshot unslung a thin bag from over his shoulder and unzipped one of the side pouches. "After our chat, I had the better part of seven hours to kill in the prison, so I thought at the very least I should poke around their weapon storage area. Once I was there the thought occurred to me that anything of yours they confiscated might also be found there. And I knew there was only one worthwhile thing that you cared about." He tossed a near cylindrical object toward her.

Even before she grasped the cold metal, Phobia knew what it was, and the thought actually brought her a sense of joy. She pulled the blade away from its black sheath, revealing the perfectly smooth dagger within. "Mallah gave me this six years ago." As cold and distant as she appeared, Phobia reserved warm emotions for Mallah, the Brain and Madame Rouge, the only people to ever welcome her. All the more reason for the burning hatred she felt toward those responsible for the Old Brotherhood's incarceration. "It's the perfect thing to cut the flesh of the Titans."

Phobia reached up and brushed aside a loose strand of hair. Her prison stay had allowed the hair to grow to an uncomfortable length, one that interfered with free movement and vision. She isolated a chunk of hair between her pointer and middle fingers and deftly sliced the blade through, watching the dark green clump float to the ground. Trimming the rest one segment at a time, she asked, "How were you spending your time this morning?"

"There was an irritating policewoman investigating me," he answered, pulling out a sleek rifle from his carrying bag. "She had become too much of an annoyance."

"I assume we're not staying here much longer. Are we finally going to see her?"

Deadshot unsealed the door guarding his private vault. "Along with the others as well. Just as soon as I stock up."

Phobia pushed the blade into its holster once more and slid it onto her belt. Even without the aid of a mirror, she could feel the correctness of her hair. Tenderly, one of her hands touched the pink arc atop her forehead. Phobia had received that scar from the hands of her most bitterly hated Titan, the one she wanted to make suffer more than any other. The Goth. Raven.

----------

"Any luck?" Speedy asked, leaning against the doorframe into Cyborg's room.

"None," Cyborg replied. "Near as I can tell, aside from Phobia, everybody in Paris was arrested. Based on INTERPOL data, anyone connected to the Brotherhood was there. Vala Jast and Deadshot were the only associates who weren't even in France. I'm going to keep searching, but for now it's looking like those three are it."

"Deadshot's only interested in money, and Phobia and Vala Jast don't have enough funds to keep him on board. There has to be someone else."

"Not according to this," Cyborg said, pointing at the screen. "But you're right, it just doesn't seem to fit together."

"Check these," Speedy said, tossing the small container across the room.

"What is it?"

"Robin's drugs."

"Jesus," Cyborg uttered. "What the hell do you think he's going to do when he finds that they're missing?"

"Don't worry," Speedy remarked. "I talked it over with him. He gave them to me willingly."

Cyborg looked at the crimson archer sceptically.

"I'm not enough of a fool to think he's given it up completely. But it's the first step. I just need you to make sure he gave me the real pills."

Cyborg twisted the cap off, pulled one out and meticulously examined it. "These are them. It's Meperidine."

"Good. Keep them locked away somewhere, because Robin will try to get them from you."

"No one likes to admit they're wrong, least of all that guy. How'd you get the pills from him?"

"I told him what happened to me when I had an addiction."

"Speedy…I had no idea. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You were just doing what you thought might protect him. The same thing I was doing. But right now all we can do is watch him carefully."

"I don't think we should tell the others about this. At least not yet."

"Me neither. Keeping quiet about it is the best thing we can do." Speedy turned away from Cyborg and paused for a moment, letting several seconds tick by. "Frances is dead."

Cyborg's shoulders sagged and he grimaced. "Frances was the lead detective on the Cassamento drug shipment. She was a good woman and a damn fine cop."

"You'd better get back to work." Speedy slid the door shut and closed his eyes.

Frances' death was on his shoulders. He knew this. Deadshot gained the opportunity to murder her only because of his failure to bring him in. How many more lives must be ruined on Speedy's watch? He could not let a tragedy like this happen again. The moment he had his chance, Speedy would not hesitate.

----------

The heat of an early summer afternoon was not conducive to comfort, least of all when Phobia was bundled in a bulky leather jacket and sealed within a stuffy car. She agreed with Deadshot that neither could be seen outside sporting their particular and highly distinctive uniforms, which had led to the thick coats. And there was wisdom in Deadshot driving an unassuming vehicle that was nearly two decades old rather than a sleek sports car. Both thoughts failed to make the drive to the Financial Sector within the downtown core any more comfortable however.

It was not long before Deadshot drifted to the far right lane and turned off the busy road into a narrow alley that gave way to a nearly abandoned lot behind two office buildings. Moving left, he positioned the car toward an underground parking garage that was plastered with a large sign reading, "Danger: Under Construction." The garage sat directly in front of a partially completed building that stood at least thirty stories. Phobia could see that windows covered only the lower half of the edifice, the higher floors a mess of concrete, protruding girders and plastic sheeting that flapped wildly in the wind.

Their car came to a stop several feet from the metal door, and Deadshot reached over to the glove compartment and retrieved a small device that bore numerous similarities to a walkie-talkie. Depressing the side button, he said, "We're here."

Without receiving a verbal response, the door slid open in front of them, allowing Deadshot to move forward and into the underground parking. Light poured through the opening into the pitch black cavern as Deadshot wheeled to the right, flicking on his headlights once the doorway began to seal itself behind them. The car passed row after row of columns until finally reaching an area that housed several other vehicles. Though Phobia could not examine them among the shadowy darkness, she did clearly see a burgundy motorcycle that she knew belonged to the man beside her.

Once Deadshot shut off the headlights Phobia could see that there was one small light bulb hanging a dozen metres away from the car, offering only the sparsest of illumination.

"I'm quite impressed with this place," Phobia announced as she stepped out of the car and closed the side door behind her, happily leaving the leather jacket behind.

"I thought you might be," Deadshot answered. "It's slated to be a condominium apartment building for the wealthiest people who work in the surrounding offices. Lawyers, business people and the like."

"And how did we happen to come into possession of it?"

Deadshot paused to press the call button for one of the two elevators. "A simple matter involving finances, actually. LaRue Constructing was given the contract for this job, and when their computers showed that a large amount of the funds they had been given had suddenly disappeared, work stopped immediately."

The elevator door parted in front of them and Deadshot ushered with his hand for Phobia to step in. Once inside, he pressed the button for the 14th floor. "Contract negotiations can drag on for years," he continued. "At the very least I'd say we still have a few months before anything gets started again. More than enough time to finish our job here. Plus, I didn't mind the bonus I got out of it. One third of their contracting money is lining my pockets now.

"You'll see that the set up we've got is pretty tame. Very little equipment. I don't even know exactly how this operation is all going to pan out," Deadshot said with a shrug.

"She'll have planned it step by step, if I know her."

"Oh I'm sure she has. Though she certainly had a reluctance to discuss it until you arrived."

"I'm not surprised."

The elevator lurched to a stop and the door roughly opened, revealing just how much more work was required before the building was complete. Phobia stepped out onto the bare concrete floor and found herself staring directly into the eyes of a slender woman identical in height. Thick black hair cut even shorter than her own complimented the full, lustrous, and rich crimson lips on the woman, who held an alluring exotic quality. A skintight, vibrant blue bodysuit extended outward to black gloves that reached her elbows and tucked into boots that rose beyond her knees. No equipment or tools were visible on her body—Phobia knew she was devastatingly deadly with nothing more than her own abilities, much like herself.

"I am pleased to see that you have both made it," she said, a thick accent coating all the words. "Welcome to the New Brotherhood."

"Hello Gemini," Phobia responded.

"We have little time to begin implementing our movements, so let us not dawdle with idle chit chat." Gemini swept her right hand in a beckoning motion and turned away.

Phobia followed with Deadshot at her side, taking in her new environment. The level did not yet have walls and was thus completely open, closed in only by the windows that had already been installed. But for the small mess of tables and supplies at the centre of the cavernous room, there was nothing else. Crates of explosives, rounds of ammunition, and various forms of weaponry all decorated a small area around one table, atop which another woman sat. Even without the distinctive blood red and black armour, Phobia immediately recognized her as Vala Jast, Madame Rouge's favourite operative.

Gemini folded her hands behind her back and stood perfectly upright. "Phobia, you are already acquainted with Vala Jast, but you do not yet know Dashan."

Sparkles of light reflected off a glistening frame that stood an impressive seven feet. There was not a trace of flesh on his body, which was instead covered entirely by perfectly polished steel. Brown and green camouflaged pants wrapped tightly around his waist and rested above army boots.

"His past need not concern you," Gemini continued. "You need only to know that he has no former connections with the Old Brotherhood. By now the Titans will already know that each of you are working together, but Dashan will come as a surprise, as will I."

Gemini slapped a manila file folder onto the table, fingered it open, and leaned forward, placing each of her palms on the smooth pine surface. "Here is the plan. I am quite certain each of you will enjoy your assigned tasks," she said, shifting her gaze between each of the assembled individuals. "The first phase of our operation targets Beast Boy. It is he who was most responsible for the death of the Old Brotherhood. Once we begin, each of us must act with absolute precision, for each of our roles must occur very nearly simultaneously."

----------

Sitting on the kitchen countertop in the Operations Room, Beast Boy casually swung his legs back and forth. Far to his right Kid Flash and Jinx sat still on the coach, chatting quietly with both Speedy and Starfire. Having disappeared an hour before, Raven had returned to the room, and now leaned against the wall opposite Beast Boy. Each of them was visibly on edge, anxiously waiting for something to happen. At this point Beast Boy did not know if that meant an order from Robin or valuable information from Cyborg.

The communicator on his belt sprang to life, startling Beast Boy fiercely and sending him leaping off the counter. Everyone perked up and looked over to him as he answered.

Her golden blonde hair, perfectly smooth skin and deep blue eyes returned his stare. "Terra!" Beast Boy shouted.

"Terra?" Raven questioned, standing up from the wall and taking several steps forward.

She was crying softly, and when Terra spoke her words were but a whisper. "Beast Boy…"

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "There's a man after me. I…I don't know who he is."

"Where are you?"

"An empty theatre off Teves Street. I'm hiding in the wardrobe area in the basement."

"Stay right there," Beast Boy ordered, already walking toward the door.

"Please hurry," she whimpered.

Beast Boy snapped the communicator shut and felt a small hand aggressively grab his right bicep from behind.

"You can't just run off," Raven stated.

Beast Boy whipped his arm out of her grip and kept going.

"Beast Boy!" shouted Raven.

"Terra's in danger!" he shouted back. "I have to go!"

Before she could say another word he had vanished into the hallway. "Damn it," she muttered. Raven flipped open her own communicator. "Robin, get to the Operations Room right now."

"Are we going after him?" Kid Flash inquired.

"No, not yet," Raven replied, placing the yellow device back on her belt. "There's too much else to worry about. And we're not going to be able to stop him from getting to Terra."

"Who's Terra?" Jinx asked.

"The last person to betray our trust," Raven responded coldly.

Starfire leaned in to Jinx and said, "She and Beast Boy have a complicated past together."

The double doors whooshed open to admit Robin at a full run. "What is it?"

"Beast Boy just got a message from Terra," answered Raven.

"From Terra?" Robin repeated, all bewilderment.

"She said that she was in trouble," Speedy interjected. "And he ran off to find her."

"Not now," Robin said to himself, not even bothering to hid the disappointment in his voice.

"What's the move?" questioned Kid Flash.

"Do we know where he's going?" asked Robin.

"A theatre on Teves Street," Raven responded.

"Starfire, follow him and keep a close watch."

"Robin!"

He turned around to see Cyborg leap down the stairs behind him.

"There's a fourth member," he blurted out quickly, holding out a picture of a young woman. "No database showed any affiliation with the Brotherhood, but there was one reference that Madame Rouge had a daughter. She'd probably be about eighteen or nineteen by now, and I'm sure she has to be involved in all this. Her name's Gemini."

Robin felt his heart sink. "Does she have the same powers as her mother?"

"I think so," Cyborg remarked.

"Jesus Christ," Robin said.

"Has something happened?" inquired Cyborg.

"Beast Boy just got a call from Terra."

"You think it wasn't actually Terra who called?"

Robin ignored the question and opened his communicator. "Beast Boy!" he shouted. "Damn it, Beast Boy, pick up." The screen remained muffled and filled with grey static.

"He's not going to answer you," Raven said. "He won't answer any of us."

"Son of a bitch," Robin snapped, pressing the device shut. "Get after him right now, Starfire. Do whatever it takes to stop him from getting to that theatre and bring him back to the Tower."

Starfire nodded but instantly stopped when Robin's communicator bleeped loudly.

"Beast Boy?" Robin asked hopefully. Flicking it open, Robin saw that it was Captain Marshall on the other end.

"Deadshot just contacted me. He claims he's got hostages, and refuses to talk to anyone but you. I'm at Police Headquarters."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Robin turned to look at the others. "Starfire, get Beast Boy. Speedy and Cyborg, you're with me. Everyone else stay here until I say otherwise."

Raven raised her hand and opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it and resolved to follow orders. She let her shoulders slump forward as she watched her closest allies rush out of the room, leaving her with a man she did not fully trust and a woman she despised.


	6. Ambush

I received a number of anonymous reviews for the last chapter. Normally I respond to every review that I get, but since I can't do that with anonymous ones, I thought I'd just take the opportunity to thank anyone who's left an anonymous review. I'm perfectly happy with anonymous reviews, so by all means keep leaving them. I'm just thankful for any feedback I may receive.

Oh, and if anyone was confused last chapter when Speedy mentioned a woman named Dinah who helped him get through his addiction, she's Black Canary. Her and Green Arrow are together.

----------

The R-Cycle deftly glided around a car and Robin kicked the throttle forward, pushing its speed upward. Mimicking his moves precisely, Speedy followed close behind, while the slightly more cumbersome and bulky T-Car brought up the rear.

"What are we doing about Phobia?" Cyborg asked as he whipped the wheel to the left. The movement momentarily brought the vehicle into onrushing traffic in order to avoid a car that had made a wide right turn, thereby inadvertently putting himself directly into the Titan's path.

"I'm not sure," Robin replied through the headset in his helmet.

"We both know she's the bigger threat," Cyborg said. An SUV that was screaming toward him slammed on the brakes, releasing puffs of white smoke and causing the back tires to fishtail. Cyborg downshifted and cruised around the obstacle and back into the right lanes, using his palm to flick the gears upward again and feeling the kick of additional pressure against his chest while the engine fought to so rapidly increase its performance.

"Don't underestimate Deadshot," interrupted Speedy.

"We're not," Robin answered. "But he's not capable of what Phobia is. Cyborg's right to say we need to focus on her." Robin braced himself when the saw the lights at the incoming intersection move upward to amber. His cape fluttered wildly in the wind, snapping against the sides of cars that he tore past. Robin revved the engine to its absolute limit, driving the motorcycle ever closer to the intersection as the lights switched to red.

The R-Cycle shot through the intersection amid a torrent of squealing breaks, forcing cars on the perpendicular road to spin out of control. Speedy burst into the same gap in traffic that Robin had created, fighting hard to maintain control at such recklessly high speeds. Cyborg jerked hard to the right and plunged onto the sidewalk, rocking the T-Car violently as it mounted the curb. The front bumper rammed into a row of parking metres, twisting and tearing each of them from the ground with the sound of rending metal. Cyborg's entire body heaved forward as the T-Car became airborne at the entrance to the intersection and then hurled back into his seat when the tires slammed against the concrete. Losing control for a split second, Cyborg grimaced and brought the vehicle back onto the road, once again pursuing the other two Titans who had steadily increased their lead ahead of him.

"I'm not saying we should ignore Deadshot completely," Cyborg continued. "But shouldn't the others at least be patrolling?"

"Until we have a reason to believe Phobia is on the move, I want Raven able to respond anywhere. The Tower is the best place for her to do that. And I'm with her when it comes to Kid Flash and Jinx—I don't fully trust them yet. Given her level of suspicion, Raven will naturally keep a very close watch on them."

"And when we finally do find Phobia?" Cyborg questioned.

"I've already been thinking about it."

"Robin, I don't think I can create a band any more powerful than the one I already did. There's nothing I know of that can actually contain her powers."

"I know. There might only be one way to stop her forever."

"We'll lose the support of the mayor's office, and the JCPD, if we take that path."

"Believe me, Cyborg, I'm aware of that. But she may not leave us much of a choice."

The three vehicles continued along the winding road in silence.

----------

Bits of gravel crunched under the soles of his feet as he landed in a crouch. Overwhelmed by an onrush of emotions, Beast Boy burst through the front entrance of the Secen Theatre, sending bits of the beautifully crafted door's wooden frame spinning through the air as jagged splinters. Thick fur rushed outward from his skin and the changeling dropped onto four legs, tensing his muscles as he sprinted forward in the form of a leopard. The wide paws smacked against the marble floor of the foyer, totally devoid of people during one of the theatre's few off days.

Beast Boy leaped down a flight of ten stairs and bounded around a corner, pouncing past a further flight. Rows and rows of costumes lined the hallway, while several had been chaotically tossed and were lying on table tops or even the floor. There were no doors that Beast Boy could see on either side, but rather only a single room directly at the end of the corridor. He rushed through the open doorway into the dimly lit room, illuminated only by sparse security lights, and reverted back to his human form before he had come to a stop. The room was quite large, and utterly filled with costumes and props from nearly every historical period, all of it stuffed closely together. Five large wooden walls reached upward to within several metres of the ceiling and served to divide certain sections of the wardrobe area.

"Terra!" Beast Boy called, cupping his hands over his mouth.

"Beast Boy!" a soft voice returned.

He spun on his feet and from beneath a stack of suit jackets a slender blonde girl rushed out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Beast Boy pulled her against his chest, firmly wrapping his arms around her torso. "Are you okay?" he asked in desperation. "What happened?"

Terra's arm snapped upward and Beast Boy felt a smooth object fiercely thrust against his spine midway up his back. The pressure intensified and a surge of electricity coursed over his entire body, forcing him to release Terra and fall to his knees screaming. White hot sparks of lightning ruptured over his flesh and he tightly clenched his fists amid the terrible wails of anguish that erupted from his upraised mouth. Finally his eyelids draped shut and he collapsed forward onto the floor as the last pinpricks of energy snaked over his back.

Her white collared shirt and blonde hair peeled back into itself and a blue bodysuit emerged, with black hair now decorating the top of her head. Gemini stared down at the unconscious body of the Titan she despised the greatest and let a smile spread across her face. If only the others would be so easy.

----------

Robin was quickly ushered into Captain Marshall's office, with Speedy and Cyborg close behind. Marshall paced anxiously behind his pine desk, distress and exhaustion clearly evident on his face.

Looking down at the phone on Marshall's desk, Robin could see that the Speaker Phone red light was lit, indicating that Deadshot had remained on the line in anticipation of Robin's arrival. "Deadshot?" he asked.

"Ah Robin," came the answer over the phone. "So good of you to come."

"Save it," Robin snapped.

"Quick to anger, eh? Then I'll bet you won't like the news I have for you."

"You have hostages." It was not a question, but a statement.

"Indeed I do. Four of them, in point of fact. Not too difficult to get a hold of them either. Given my location, I certainly expected more resistance."

"Tell me where you are."

"I'm actually in the same spot you were this morning, over at the prison."

Marshall grimaced, reacting to some unknown catalyst, but rapidly covered his expression.

A wave of panic struck Robin. "What have you done?"

"Oh relax," Deadshot said coolly. "No need to worry much. I haven't released anyone."

"Then what do you want?"

"You," he answered. "I want you, Robin. Here. For every twenty minutes that passes without your arrival, I'll kill a hostage. If anyone else comes, I'll kill all the hostages. And once I've done that, I'll set every rapist and murdering psychopath free. I'll even be able to arm some of them."

Robin let his head hang downward, feeling the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders should Deadshot open the prison's gates.

"Oh, and I have someone to introduce all of you to. It seems that a few police officers were posted at the prison today, to cover for the guards that were killed. Marshall, you might especially want to pay attention."

They heard some residual background noise as Deadshot adjusted the position of the phone he was using. His words were much softer when he spoke next, and Robin knew Deadshot was holding the phone up to another man's mouth. "Say your name."

"Nicholas Marshall," came the reply.

"Jesus Christ!" Marshall howled, slamming his palms down against the desk's surface. "That's my son! Deadshot, I swear to God, if you hurt my son—"

"Be quiet," Deadshot interrupted, speaking directly into the phone once more. "There's some extra incentive for you to not foul this one up, Robin. I'm sure Marshall will have high expectations toward your performance. And speaking of him, such concern for your son, eh Captain? Let me offer you a little bit of free advice. You're probably going to spend all your time worrying about whether your son is going to live or die. Instead of doing that, you might want to start thinking of yourself right about now. See you real soon, Robin."

The line clicked and then went dead.

"Son of a bitch!" Marshall shouted.

"Cyborg, stay here at the station. One of the others in the Brotherhood might try something. Speedy, you're with me."

"I'm coming to the prison," Marshall stated.

Robin pointed his finger at the desk in front of him. "No you're not. You're staying right here. We're going to play by Deadshot's rules. But I swear to you that I'm not going to let anyone get killed today." He moved toward the office's exit.

"Robin," Marshall began, "Support from the mayor's office is fading after the incident with Raven two months ago. And Commissioner Miller will go along with any decision they make."

Robin paused for a moment, half looking back over his shoulder, but continued forward, leaving the office without another word.

"Three people were killed, damn it!" Marshall cried, pursuing Robin out of the office. "How many more will be this time?"

The station grew silent, and Marshall felt dozens of eyes fall upon him at his outburst. He pinched the top of his nose between his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a painful migraine forming, and then looked up to meet the stares. "Lock this building down," he ordered. "And put officers around the perimeter. No one enters without my permission."

----------

Gemini placed her left knee on the ground, bending down to ensure that Beast Boy was indeed unconscious—there was little difference between a shock that could instantaneously incapacitate an individual and one that could outright kill. To Gemini's eyes, a dead Beast Boy would not be awful, but alive he would elicit so much more enjoyment as he continued to suffer. A quick check of his pulse with the fore and middle fingers of her right hand confirmed he remained among the living.

A shrill and deafening wail echoed through the lower level of the theatre, causing Gemini to pull away from the unconscious Titan and twist herself around to face the only entrance, out of which came Starfire in full flight, emerald pouring forth from her eyes. Her left hand was already retracted and encircled by a glowing orb of pure energy, and Gemini flipped backward as the superheated weapon was flung forward, blackening a small patch of the floor on which Gemini had stood a heartbeat prior. Starfire unleashed wave after wave of starbolts at her foe, who leaped and tucked away in a grotesquely inhuman way, unnaturally contorting herself as if her entire body were a malleable frame lacking bones.

Starbolts rained past the intended target and wardrobes burst into flame, offering orange and yellow light that spread rapidly, dancing outward and overtaking the wooden walls that divided each section of the costumes. Gemini rolled into a tightly packed ball and sprang up, ceasing her backward rotations and landing perfectly on her feet in a crouched position. She thrust an arm forward and the appendage stretched a dozen metres with a closed fist at its end. Starfire nimbly twisted to the left and downward, bringing herself under Gemini's arm, and launched a green ball.

The flesh of her arm sizzled and crackled as the starbolt tore toward Gemini, interfering with her ability to control her contortions. She dived to the side, allowing her arm to lose its form and flop to the ground. Large bits of brick and dust erupted outward from directly behind Gemini, testament to the awesome power of even one starbolt. She pulled her shoulder back and then snapped it upward, unleashing her arm toward an airborne Starfire as a whip. Its end struck the back of Starfire's exposed thigh, easily piercing the skin, and with a shriek of pain the alien spun upward in a broad circle that brought her beyond the reach of Gemini's whip, though it pushed her much closer to the fires enveloping the basement.

Starfire grasped the top of the flaming wooden wall to her immediate right, ignoring the intense pain that tore away at the flesh of her hands, and heaved the entire structure forward like a massive projectile. Gemini's eyes widened in horror and she lunged away from the crashing inferno, already feeling her body beginning to liquefy amid the heat, and felt the wall collapse on top of her and drive her into the floor. Starfire indiscriminately fired pulsing energy against the now flat sheet of fire, vaporizing what remained of the wood. She attempted to blink away the thick, black smoke stinging her eyes, and coughed violently as tiny particles of ash entered her lungs.

No movement came from under the flaming waves.

Starfire quickly descended and spun around, flying back to where Beast Boy lay. Even before her feet touched the ground Starfire could see horrific burn marks across his face. Much of his clothing had melted away against the fire's onslaught, revealing blackened and charred flesh beneath. Starfire crouched beside her friend and gently touched his cheek, burned so badly that not a spot of green remained.

Tears emerged within her swelling eyes and rolled down Starfire's cheeks. Quietly and alone she sobbed.

----------

Gemini allowed herself a subdued smile. It had proceeded perfectly. "So what is it she believes to be witnessing?"

Phobia continued to stare at the whimpering Tamaranean. "She thinks you were crushed and that Beast Boy died in the fire."

"The one she herself started with her attacks?" Gemini asked. The smile on her face grew broader. "Quite sadistic in its irony."

"What can I say?" Phobia replied, shrugging. "It's one of my many talents."

"Dispose of this meddlesome teenager," Gemini instructed with a wave of her hand. She looked down at her feet where the real Beast Boy lay unconscious. "Then we can leave with the chameleon."

Phobia withdrew a perfectly straight blade from a small sheath hanging loosely from her belt, and even with the sparse lighting available a pinprick of light glinted on the steel. Slowly she strode over to the hunched Starfire, still mourning over a non-existent body, and held the blade aloft.

The dagger plunged through Starfire's skin just left of her spine, causing her entire body to arch forward and seizing her torso with a violent tremor. Nausea washed over Starfire and she bellowed in pain as the knife was yanked free, releasing thick red spurts of blood. Her mind whirled, so overcome by the suddenness of it, while shock, distress and anguish intermingled with one another at a terrifying intensity. She had thought that she was now alone in the room, that no one remained to attack her.

But an assault had nonetheless come. One that originated behind her. A single thought formed in Starfire's mind—her attacker has not had enough time to change positions. With much effort, she lifted her right hand and held it above her shoulder, not expending any additional energy that would be required to actually turn even her head. Green sparks erupted from her clenched fist, followed by a veritable wall of energy that represented every ounce Starfire could release in her state.

The blast caught Phobia square in the chest, pounding into her with enough force to propel her off the floor and backward, arms and legs flailing wildly. She struck the ground hard, tumbling end over end and causing the dagger to spill out of her hands.

Not bothering to stand her ground and fight, Starfire shot upward, accelerating at a fantastic rate. She tucked her head and drove her shoulder into the ceiling, crashing through the barrier and showering debris outward, and then soared still higher toward the theatre's upper most ceiling. Tears streaking her cheeks and her breathing growing increasingly laboured, Starfire utterly lost her orientation upon impact with the roof. All she knew was that she had to get far away from that place.

Dust, small fragments of plaster and blood all streaked her backside. She flew faster still, not even aware that her body was spinning erratically and that her elevation was dropping. Her eyelids drooped for a moment and Starfire forced herself to snap awake, even temporarily ascending once more, but then blackness overtook her and she slipped into unconsciousness. She plummeted downward, roughly bouncing off the corner of a large office building that tossed her body aside. Starfire did not feel the howling winds against her flesh, nor did she feel the final impact against the concrete of a sidewalk. The cement caved inward half a dozen inches from the immense weight of her crashing body, and cracks spread away outward in a vaguely circular fashion. She lay on her back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, with all four of her limbs stretched out, while a tiny pool of blood developed from beneath her and slowly snaked its way in among the cracks.

----------

Phobia turned to the side and propped her body up on her elbow. She spat warm blood from her mouth and groaned. Looking down she could see holes in the fabric she wore, where bits of it had been burned off, revealing spots of light red skin beneath. Gingerly she touched a spot on her chest with her finger, and a rush of pain overtook her.

"Fool!" Gemini hissed. "You need only eliminate a weeping girl and yet you fail at it. Perhaps my evaluations of your skills—along with your own conceited opinions—are sorely lacking in accuracy."

Phobia climbed to her feet, her expression that of seething rage. "And were you as good a fighter as you claim to be, I wouldn't have even needed to create an illusion. I seem to recall watching you stand still for most of that." She stabbed her pointer finger into the air. "Your mother did not presume to order me around, so I _certainly_ won't allow her little brat to do so."

"Choose your words carefully," Gemini responded coldly.

"Take your own advice first." Phobia brushed past the younger woman. "Feel free to lug the boy around yourself."

Gemini's eyes narrowed into slits, but with great effort she held her tongue in check. Stretching her arms downward, she hefted the unconscious Beast Boy onto her shoulder and trailed after Phobia.

----------

Pulling off to the side of the road onto a patch of grass, Speedy cut the engine of his motorcycle and the vibrations came to an end. He flicked the kickstand down with the toes of his foot and swung his leg over the side of the vehicle, standing up from it. A shadow was cast over his immediate area from the high walls that encircled the prison's courtyard. Beside him the R-Cycle continued to run, with Robin sitting atop it.

Robin lifted the visor of his helmet up. "I don't want to take the risk that Deadshot is bluffing, so stay out here."

"He's not bluffing," Speedy said, shaking his head. "He never bluffs. If he sees me inside he'll kill the hostages."

"I don't know exactly what he's attempting, but I have a feeling he isn't going to face me inside."

"Probably not."

"I'll free the hostages and force Deadshot outside. When you see him, take him down."

The hard edge visible on Speedy's expression did not waver. "Will do."

Robin twisted his right handlebar forward and the R-Cycle sped through the prison's front gate.

----------

Deadshot hunched forward on the desk in front of him, watching rows of computer monitors. A lone figure sped across the courtyard and approached the main entrance. Though Deadshot was not enough of a fool to believe there were no other Titans in the vicinity, he was pleased that it would only be Robin entering the prison. He continued to watch the screens as Robin left his motorcycle behind and barged through the doorway. The hero crept forward at a slow pace with his hands clenched into fists, continually twisting his head back and forth. Deadshot was exceedingly pleased to see he was already suspicious and on edge.

It was only a few short minutes before Robin entered the prison's first wing, and Deadshot calmly proceeded away from the monitors as the Titan was slowly surrounded on all sides by cells. Deadshot picked up a rather crude and old fashioned microphone and pushed one of the buttons on its side.

----------

"Attention prison intruder."

Robin's head snapped upward to one of the speakers lining the hallway. Even through bits of crackling distortion, he recognized Deadshot's voice.

"If you care to find me, I'm in the northeast monitoring room, at the end of Wing B. But I'm not quite certain how good your odds are of making it that far."

Robin's eyes darted between each of the cells lining the corridor, all too aware that dozens and dozens of murderous eyes were watching him. He bent his knees slightly and placed his hand on the utility belt encircling his waist.

"Attention prison guests," Deadshot's voice continued. "I'm happy to inform each of you that Robin—the very man who is personally responsible for the current incarceration many of you suffer from—is now in the prison. Alone. I don't think I need to tell you what a fantastic opportunity this is."

A loud klaxon wailed and Robin felt a shudder run through the corridor as the steel doors of each cell slowly slid open.


	7. Unwonted Failure

Since I'm going to be out of town this weekend, I thought I'd be nice and post this chapter a day earlier than normal. Next weekend I'll even need to post the following chapter on a Friday too. Boy, all of you are sure getting lucky this month.

----------

Deep down he was going to thoroughly miss seeing the imminent thrashing Robin was sure to receive at the hands of the inmates. But Deadshot knew what his duties were, what he was being paid for. He also knew Robin would not be brought to defeat by the lunatics that filled the prison. Robin would be pummelled—of that Deadshot had no doubt—but a man of his determination, of his talent, would bring down every last inmate to reach Deadshot. The assassin had to admire the qualities Robin possessed in abundance. It would not be too long before he reached the monitoring room, and Deadshot had no intention of being present when the bloodied and battered, not to mention vengeful, Robin did appear.

Deadshot unzipped the duffel bag lying atop one of the desks in the room as he approached the four hostages, each of whom were strapped to chairs only a few metres away from the doorway that Robin would inevitably have to enter. Though all of them wore the appearance of bravery and courage, Deadshot knew deep down they must have been experiencing deep fear. Especially when he carefully retrieved four grenades from within his bag. He placed one on each of their laps and tightly fashioned the circular weapons in place with a strip of duct tape. Deadshot next withdrew four long segments of rope and tied one end of each piece to the nearby door handle. One by one he attached the other ends to the grenade pins, ensuring the ropes were taut.

The horrifying realisation of Deadshot's plan struck each hostage as he finished his knots. Deadshot could see Nicolas Marshall begin to shake with fear. Not wanting any of them to ruin his precise strategy, Deadshot peeled off four more strips of duct tape and roughly placed the pieces over their mouths.

Deadshot stared into Nicholas' terrified eyes. "If, by some miracle, you actually manage to survive, then pass along my regrets to Robin that I had to leave. Other business to attend to, you know." He tapped Nicholas' cheek twice with the palm of his hand and then walked away, exiting through the back door of the room, which led to a single hallway that Robin had no way of accessing from his current position. Regardless of how he fought, of what strategy he adopted, it was unavoidable that he would be funnelled toward the doorway that was now laced with explosives.

There were days when Deadshot loved his job.

----------

A mass of flesh hurtled at Robin, criminals surging toward him like savage animals, crying out for his blood. Flicking open one compartment on his belt, Robin felt four small orbs slide into his waiting hand and he lashed out with the limb, tossing the grey balls through the air. They clinked and bounced atop the concrete floor for a moment and then erupted, releasing a powerful shockwave amid dancing flames and acrid smoke that thrust six of the encroaching men backward fiercely.

Immediately Robin whirled on the balls of his feet and his staff snapped outward into existence. Lacking the timing for proper finesse, Robin swung the weapon with his full strength, striking a bald prisoner directly against his forehead and stopping the upper half of his body even as the lower half continued forward, which projected the inmate upward off his feet and slammed his back against the ground.

Robin firmly placed the tip of his staff against the floor and used it to propel himself in the opposite direction, bringing the sole of his right boot into contact with exposed skin. The Boy Wonder twirled the staff around again, smacking it into one man's temple, and then adjusted it to hit yet another. Already leaning on his left leg, Robin snapped his right leg outward, catching a prisoner in his gut. While the man lurched forward Robin spun and unleashed the outside of his left boot in a powerful roundhouse that easily concussed the already wounded attacker.

The wind rushed out from Robin's mouth as a large man slammed into him from behind, wrapping his thick, muscular arms around the Titan. The force of the impact drove the staff out of Robin's hands, but recovering quickly Robin smashed the back of his head into the man's face and instantly felt a splash of warm liquid land on his own neck. The man was left disoriented by the counterattack, and Robin exploited that fact to jab a pressure point on his wrists, freeing himself from the tight grip. Robin pivoted as the prisoner stumbled forward with a bloodied face, and he deftly punched the back of the man's neck, sending him toppling to the ground.

Pain jolted through Robin's spine and his head was bashed to the side as blows descended upon him. Hands and nails scratched and clawed at his skin, knuckles pounded against his muscles, parts of his cape and uniform were torn and split, tears blurred his vision. Robin impelled his fist forward into the nearest face he could distinguish, cracking the man's nose with a sickening crunch. Partially restrained though he was, Robin was able to deliver a kick that pushed the prisoner backward and crashed him into two others.

Robin yanked against an arm that dangled to his left, using it to pull himself upright again, and bashed his forehead into the criminal's face. A shoulder struck Robin's side violently, sending him tumbling to his knees. Before he could properly recover a beefy prisoner stepped forward and drove his foot into Robin's chin. With bits of blood flowing through his mouth and rage displayed on his face, Robin braced himself as the overweight man swung his leg again. Robin slipped to the side slightly and caught the leg in mid-flight and savagely jerked it with his remaining strength, fracturing the bone and contorting the leg below the knee at a wicked angle. The inmate collapsed to the floor screaming incomprehensibly as Robin returned to his feet, already producing another handful of silver orbs from his belt.

Clenching his eyelids shut, Robin flung the balls forward directly in front of the gathered prisoners that remained on their feet, and the small projectiles burst open with a blinding flash of magnificent white. Robin opened his eyes and darted forward while the men stumbled from the remarkably overpowering concentration of light that had appeared before them. He leapt upward and lambasted the nearest prisoner with his foot, surging over the man's falling body and slamming his fist into another face. With agile precision Robin systematically struck each threat, sending the entire assortment into unconsciousness and leaving him as the lone man standing upright. Hunched over, his clothing ragged and clinging to the blood and sweat across his torso, crimson seeping from the corners of his mouth, Robin gritted his teeth and pressed onward.

----------

Speedy fingered the slender arrow held fleetingly in place with the stretched bowstring and stepped out from behind the stone gated entrance to the prison, already releasing the projectile. It coursed toward Deadshot as he raced across the prison's courtyard, but he nimbly swerved his motorcycle to the side, allowing the arrow to harmlessly shoot past him. Letting his right hand rise away from the handlebar, he brought the twin barrelled guns that rested atop his wrist to bare.

White sparks flashed from the ends of the double weapon, spewing a barrage of bullets toward his attacker. Speedy jerked to the side in an awkward roll, already loading his bow with a second arrow when he emerged from the movement in a crouch. The missile sprung forward and exploded against the ground with fire and puffs and curls of black smoke as Deadshot frantically repositioned himself. His vehicle rocked from the shockwave but he quickly regained control and unleashed further hell with his weaponry.

Bullets chewed up the grass and stone where Speedy stood, forcing him to sprint with his head down back across the roadway to where his own motorcycle waited. Deadshot burst through the large entranceway, leaving the prison and reaching the open road that twisted and turned through the countryside.

Speedy swore and revved his cycle to life, slamming down on the accelerator and kicking it forward in pursuit. Far ahead Deadshot grew fainter against the backdrop of the mighty cityscape, and Speedy knew if it could push his engines to their utmost maximum, he might have a chance of overtaking the assassin before he reached Jump City.

----------

"Captain!"

Marshall quickly paced beyond several desks to where a young sergeant beckoned him. "What is it? Any word from Robin?"

Pointing at his computer screen, the officer said, "The prison just sent an automated message. All the cells have been opened."

Marshall's jaw dropped. "All of them? The entire prison?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh God." Marshall stepped away from the desk. "Lieutenant Clancey!" he shouted.

A tall man wearing an unmarked black uniform, with an MP5 submachine gun slung over his shoulder, answered from across the room. "Captain?"

"Assemble your entire team and get to the prison _now_. This station is no longer a priority. Go secure that facility. I want every prisoner accounted for."

Clancey nodded briskly and waved his arm as he backtracked out of the room. Immediately seven others who were positioned in the vicinity rushed after him, each of them unslinging their own deadly submachine guns. As they proceeded down the hallways that led to the two discrete black vans waiting in the garage, seven more officers emerged from various locations, all of them pulling ski masks down over their faces. Marshall comforted himself knowing that, in mere minutes, the most efficient tactical response team in the city would be screaming toward the wild prison to once again bring order.

----------

Robin steadied himself against the wall with his hand, leaving streaks of bright red behind from all the blood that had splashed upon his glove during the carnage. Pain burned over his torso with a horrific intensity, scorching his ribs, stomach and chest. His breathing grew increasingly laboured and strained, and Robin forced his mind to disregard the sensations as he continued forward. The right side of the corridor was bare wall but for a single hallway that connected to it, while to his left was a long row of windows that overlooked the cafeteria.

A bright flash of orange appeared out of the branching hallway to his right, only a heartbeat early enough to allow Robin the time necessary for avoidance. Robin arched his back as the attacking prisoner swung his fist through empty air, and then fiercely punched the man in his kidneys. As he howled in pain, Robin ferociously grabbed the back of the inmate's neck and slammed his forehead into the pane of glass beside him, drawing a thin trickle of blood and creating an elaborate pattern of cracks and breaks within the window.

Robin back peddled two steps, roughly dragging the only partially conscious prisoner with him, and then charged at the glass, throwing the man through it with an explosion of tiny fragments of clear crystal and bits of red flesh. The Titan remained where he stood, hunched over and breathing deeply. His own skin was sliced and bloodied, but his determination remained unshakeable. Nothing in his path was going to stop him.

----------

An explosion rocked the police station, shaking the very foundation and rattling the gears within Cyborg's frame. Immediately distant screams and gunshots became audible, filling the air. The men and women outside Marshall's office frantically stood, sending chairs clattering to the floor, and drew their guns, each of them searching for some form of cover but unsure from where the assault originated.

Cyborg's right hand split open and the azure opening revealed his sonic cannon. He turned to look at Marshall. "Get down! And stay here!"

Marshall opened the locker positioned directly behind his desk, retrieved the weapon from inside, and crouched behind his desk, carefully eyeing the adjoining room through the large windows of his office.

The officers within the room converged on Cyborg, forming a defensive line against the back wall, each of them assuming a crouched position with handguns fixedly pointed in the direction the attack was most likely to occur. Cyborg remained perfectly upright a dozen metres beyond the officers to his rear, with the mighty barrel staring straight ahead. He had lives to protect, men and women who were suddenly forced to rely upon his strength and awesome firepower, and thus he could not risk moving forward and leaving these allies to fend for themselves. Whatever had assaulted the station, whatever beckoned him to fight, he would do so alongside the brave detectives and constables.

Abruptly the gunshots originating from distant points in the station fell silent, as did the shouts and screams. Cyborg gritted his teeth.

A point along the far wall ruptured, utterly shattering the plywood and brick and flinging masonry about. Clouds of dust circled through the room and as the debris field settled, Cyborg stared at the bulky and prodigious frame that emerged from the destruction. Though stains—dust, plaster, wet blood that had splattered onto him from his victims—covered nearly his full exterior, it was clear even through it all that his flesh was entirely metal.

"_Open fire!_" Cyborg screamed, releasing a stream of energy.

Dashan lunged to his right, easily avoiding the blast in a show of speed and agility that belied his size. He leaped upward atop the nearest desk and heaved himself forward in a charge.

A dozen handguns from behind Cyborg disgorged chaotic streams of bullets amid eruptions of white-hot light. The metallic projectiles surged past the Titan and struck Dashan, but to Cyborg's horror they splashed harmlessly against him and bounced off. Cyborg retracted his cannon, letting the appendage emerge from within, and sprinted forward, bellowing as the distance between the two juggernauts closed to inches.

Dashan leaned forward and propelled himself into Cyborg's stomach, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man's waist and wildly thrusting him backward. Cyborg slammed into a pine desk, severing it into two chunks that collapsed inward, and then rolled still farther. He drove his fist into the side of Dashan's head, received a fierce head-butt to his right eye from Dashan, and then pummelled the attacker repeatedly in the face, all while tumbling end over end and cracking apart wooden furniture.

Amidst the final rotation Cyborg ripped Dashan's hands apart from one another and aggressively kicked against his chest, freeing himself, and then screeched to a halt on his feet. Dashan was already moving forward and unleashed a body check against Cyborg's chest, impelling him to the floor. Bullets continued to ring against Dashan's legs and back, bursting apart with tiny sparks.

Dashan stepped forward and savagely grabbed Cyborg's throat, lifting him upward, and then slammed him against the floor once again. Cyborg grunted in pain, his cries muffled amid the constant discharge of weaponry. Grasping the Titan firmly with both hands, even as he attempted to lash out, Dashan hoisted the smaller man above his head and heaved him forward, tossing Cyborg across the room.

An explosion ripped against Dashan's shoulder, forcing him forward a step. He whipped around with intensified malice in his eyes, searching for the source of the attack, and found Marshall standing at the entrance to his office with an upraised twelve-gauge shotgun in hand, already cocking the deadly weapon for a second shot. The other officers had begun to fall back, overawed by the unstoppable savage who had just felled a Titan.

The shotgun in Marshall's hands erupted again, spewing a shell of tiny metallic pellets into the chest of Dashan and knocking him back. Miniscule, almost imperceptible dents creaked inward on his frame with the strike, and Dashan wailed incomprehensibly in rage and surged forward. Another blast hammered his torso, slowing his strides for a moment, but the colossus kept coming. Marshall back peddled into his office, loading the sleek gun for a final shot.

His chance never came.

Dashan wrapped his hands around the black barrel and ripped it free from the Captain's grip, pulling the weapon back over his shoulder and then swinging it wildly at Marshall, striking him in the forehead with the butt of the shotgun. Marshall flipped backward over his desk, scattering sheets of paper and yanking the computer free from its cords. Dashan twirled the weapon around and pivoted to his right, firing once into the assembled crowd of officers. The scattered shot of pellets caught the two nearest men in their chests, rupturing the skin in a mess of red that killed them instantly.

The surviving constables scrambled backward, turning to sprint away. Dashan levelled the shotgun and fired again, hitting a woman in her back and sending her careening into a desk. Reloading the weapon, Dashan slowly walked into the office and looked down at Marshall wear he groggily lay bruised behind his desk. Dashan came to a stop directly above him, pointed the weapon at the Captain's face, and fired the final round.

His objective completed, Dashan tossed the shotgun onto the scarlet puddle developing near his feet and calmly walked out of the office. Cerulean energy violently splashed across his chest, driving him off his feet and to the floor. From the far side of the room Cyborg launched a further salvo of sonic blasts at Dashan, who was already back on his feet and leaping to the side, twisting and turning frantically to successfully dodge the assaults as he retreated from the Titan.

Attempting to keep the mammoth within his targeting sights, Cyborg swept his cannon across the room, subjecting it to a continuous bombardment that chewed and disintegrated the furniture that had survived the first bout. When the energy pouring from his arm fell silent, Cyborg was breathing deeply and Dashan was nowhere to be seen.

He had not the foggiest idea who that malevolent monstrosity had been, and for the briefest of moments Cyborg considered pursuing him. Yet Cyborg already knew he could not undertake such an aggressive chase, not while the man he had sworn to protect lay alone in his office.

Cyborg collapsed the cannon within his arm and ran toward Marshall's office. He had heard the shotgun blasts, and he knew well enough to expect the worst, but past experience taught him that hope could exist among the darkest places.

His stomach tightened into a knot and nausea rolled over him when Cyborg found what was left of Marshall. Hardened though he was by years of witnessing gruesome deaths and injuries, even Cyborg was forced to shy away from the sight that greeted him. Captain Marshall, staunch ally and defendant of the Titans, brutally murdered. Had Cyborg not already known it was Marshall who lay there, he would not have been capable of a positive identification, so disfigured was the face.

Cyborg stumbled out of the office, finding it increasingly difficult to lift his feet, as several officers returned at a full tilt. Each of them now possessed more substantial firepower in the form of shotguns and MP5s, but when they saw the expression displayed on Cyborg's face, they knew it in their hearts that the fight was over.

"Marshall's dead," Cyborg croaked.

----------

A blurry haze enveloped Starfire as she ever so slowly lifted her eyelids. Something was clamped around her mouth and nose, restricting her ability to intake oxygen. She was vaguely aware that she could not feel anything below her neck, other than the strong tingles that accompanied total numbness. Starfire tried to move her arms, her legs, but she was unable to.

She could hear muffled voices, could see figures wearing surgical masks and gowns that were white as snow, but for the red splattered across them. There were many of them, all gathered around her body. Yet Starfire's mind was incapable of understanding anything, of processing her surroundings.

After a few fleeting seconds of consciousness, darkness consumed her once again.

----------

Clutching his ribcage, the seeping blood matching the colour of his uniform, Robin came to a stop at the end of Wing B after having finally reached the northeast monitoring room. A messily handwritten note was taped at eyelevel on the door, which read, "I wouldn't come in here if I were you," and it was signed DEADSHOT.

Unperturbed by Deadshot's arrogance, Robin grasped the handle and yanked the door open toward himself. There was a faint sound of clicking, quite different from that of the other doors along the way, and Robin immediately saw four men approximately five metres away. They were bound and gagged, both fear and sweat pouring off their faces, each of them trying desperately to squirm out of their chairs, frantically looking down at the small round bulbs attached to their legs.

Robin saw the thin pieces of string dangling loosely from the handle of the door he had just opened, a tiny metallic oval tied to the end of each segment. His eyes widened in absolute horror. He attempted to slam the door shut again, to seal himself outside of the room and away from the explosives, already knowing he could not possibly avert the deaths of four Jump City officers, though the thought ripped at his heart.

Robin's eardrums rattled in pain as the grenades burst apart simultaneously, spewing a wave of pure pressure outward. The door served to just barely cushion him from the deadly explosions, and it was propelled open with such force that the metal hinges twisted and contorted. Steel plating violently smashed into Robin, throwing him backward amid a mighty shockwave that rushed over his body, pressing down on his flesh savagely. Bits of shrapnel pierced his thighs and shins as he fell backward, and Robin slammed against the wall, rolling and spinning chaotically. Smoke and dust filled the air, his ears rang like the loudest church bells, he could feel liquid trickling down his legs.

Robin coughed where he lay, incapable of summoning the strength necessary to return to his feet.

----------

The wind howled in Speedy's ears, not quite silenced by the helmet he wore. Deadshot was close, so very close, when the two motorcycles tore past the border dividing the surrounding county from Jump City proper. High above the sun was already beginning to set, casting an orange glow across the sky. Horns wailed as Deadshot sped between cars, swerving in and among the daily traffic within the congested streets, while Speedy replicated the manoeuvres as best he could, squeezing through the increasingly narrow gaps.

Deadshot thrust his right arm toward the lanes of oncoming vehicles and fired a quick burst from his wrist mounted machine guns. The bullets sheared through the front left tire and part of the engine on a sedan, ejecting bits of rubber and metal, and the vehicle swerved across the yellow dividing line and directly into Speedy's path. The archer yanked hard on his handlebars, throwing the motorcycle into a desperate skid to the right as the sedan viciously struck the side of a minivan, crumpling the frames and shattering all nearby windows. Both vehicles were tossed about wildly, spinning and squealing, and the front bumper of the van passed dangerously close to Speedy's rear tire as he rocketed past.

Speedy snatched the bow from around his shoulders and plucked an arrow from the quiver resting against his back, fighting to maintain speed while loading the weapon in the recklessly precarious situation. The motorcycle raced forward, devoid of guiding hands on the handlebars, and Speedy lined up his sights. Releasing the tremendous tension on the string, the arrow screamed past vehicles of various designs and manufacture. It arced downward just before it reached the intended target, rupturing against the black asphalt and causing a slight tremble to shudder against the back of Deadshot's cycle.

Deadshot whirled to the right when he reached an intersection, spraying his miniature cannons in disarray throughout the entire turn. Bullets pierced the windshields and fibreglass of unlucky vehicles caught in the crossfire, narrowly missing Speedy as he wheeled around the corner in close pursuit. Speedy surged closer to Deadshot, pushing the limits of the carefully modified motorcycle beneath him.

His vehicle jolted sharply as Speedy slammed into the side of Deadshot, aggressively trying to send him crashing to the road. Speedy upraised his left leg and fiercely kicked at the man beside him while Deadshot lashed out with his right boot to block the attack. Deadshot hammered his fist into Speedy's ribcage, though his second strike was shielded with a deft movement of Speedy's left palm, which swept Deadshot's arm upward and left an exposed area that Speedy quickly exploited with a fast jab of his knuckles. Deadshot lunged closer to his opponent and smashed his elbow into Speedy's helmet, knocking his head back and slowing his speed.

Fighting to maintain control as the vehicle wobbled fervently, Speedy lost ground on Deadshot. Far ahead the assassin locked his front tire with a sharp squeeze of the brakes and shunted more power to the rear tire, causing the motorcycle to fishtail in one powerful arc that spun the vehicle around completely. Deadshot's right hand had already retrieved an 8 mm handgun from a side compartment, and he let the cold steel of the handle fill his palm. For a brief moment, while the motorcycle continued to spin, its tires squealing fiercely and the entire frame vibrating ferociously, Deadshot was staring directly ahead at Speedy as he raced to recover lost ground.

Speedy caught sight of the raised handgun in his target's hand and the grin of pure contentment on his face. Deadshot fired once, feeling the slight kickback of the weapon push his forearm upward, and the bullet coursed straight into Speedy's chest, easily piercing through flesh and bone. Even as Speedy listed to the side and slipped off the motorcycle, Deadshot snapped his vehicle through the rest of its turn, once more speeding away from the troublesome hero and not bothering to look back.

Speedy landed heavily against the concrete, bouncing and twisting like a rag doll. The motorcycle drove forward alone and slammed into the side of a building, erupting in a mess of shrapnel, charred bits of metal and bouts of flame and smoke. Cars screamed to a halt on both sides of the road and civilians of all walks of life ran to the fallen Titan's side. A number of them frantically dialled emergency numbers on their cell phones, while others cradled Speedy's head and began applying pressure to the gushing chest wound.

Yet there was nothing they could do. Regardless of the skill and efficiency of the response, their efforts were fleetingly and devastatingly hopeless. Lying on the cement—his body broken and limp, his eyes rolled backward, his heartbeat absent—Speedy was already dead.

----------

Police Commissioner Joseph Miller pressed his knuckles firmly against the desk before him, biting his lip and staring forward in uncomfortable silence and anguish.

The woman in front of him remained stoic and utterly impassive. "We need a decision, sir."

"I know, Julia."

"Mayor Schwindt has already made her position clear. We've been too forgiving of their recklessness in the past. Marshall and half a dozen other officers are already dead. It can all end here. We just need your order."

Miller looked up, finally meeting Julia's eyes. He pushed off his desk and stood up straight, taking a long, deep breath. While part of him was not surprised that it had come to this, given the terrible fallout of the incident with Raven two months earlier, deep down he had felt a growing sense of uneasiness over the possibility that he would be forced into making this decision.

Only twenty minutes prior a frantic series of phone calls to the mayor's office had begun upon learning that one of his best and most experienced captains was dead, along with six of his constables. To his shock, reports of an explosion at the prison reached his ears mere minutes later, and the full severity of that was still being processed. It was likely that numerous additional names would be added to the increasing list of downed officers.

"Captain," Miller said finally.

"Sir?" Julia replied, awaiting his final verdict.

"Radio all units. The Teen Titans are now considered vigilantes and are to be brought to justice immediately. Detain them at all costs."


	8. Pariahs

Lieutenant Fischer accepted the orders with grim professionalism.

"I understand, ma'am," he said into his cell phone. Fischer shut the phone and slipped it into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. He turned to look over his shoulder, to where Cyborg still stood with four other detectives outside Marshall's office, all while gently placing his fingers on the handgun that rested snugly within his jacket.

Fischer slowly walked across the room, knowing that he could soon be dead if the Titan chose to resist violently. Coming around the final desk between him and the others, sweat already greasing his forehead, Fischer took a final breath and yanked out his sidearm, pointing the barrel directly at Cyborg's face.

Cyborg's hand retracted and a swirling blue cannon whipped upward to face the new threat. Immediately the four other officers followed the action of their superior, withdrawing their own guns and nervously directing the weapons at the Titan. Gradually Cyborg panned his arm in a broad semicircle, taking in the five individuals before him, his eyes darting from officer to officer.

Each of the detectives wavered and flinched in the tiniest manner, though all of them maintained their stance and kept their guns aimed at Cyborg. Confusion reigned supreme, evident on every face but for the lieutenant.

Fischer broke the silence. "Cyborg, you have been deemed an outlaw by the commissioner and mayor, along with the other Titans. My orders are to arrest you."

"An outlaw?" Cyborg demanded in shock. "Your captain's just been murdered and you're choosing to focus on _me_?"

"It's not a choice."

Cyborg sadly lowered his head a fraction of an inch. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. This is insanity."

"Guessing the thought process of Commissioner Miller isn't part of my job," Fischer remarked.

"I'm the only chance you have of catching the maniac that butchered Marshall!" Cyborg shouted. "And we're the only Goddamn people capable of saving the city right now. How can you turn your back on allies like that?"

"I'm doing what's necessary to protect my city. You've operated outside the law for too long, continuously circumventing the legal and judicial systems. But I won't do that," Fischer said, shaking his head. "Not today. My job is to follow the commissioner's orders."

"If you do that, Marshall's killer won't be found. Are you really going to follow through with your orders?"

Fischer's face did not waver. "I'm going to do what I have to."

"You're making a mistake."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry that it came to this."

"Me too," Cyborg replied, closing the cannon and letting his arm fall.

Fischer kept the handgun in place and took two steps forward, bringing himself closer to the Titan. "Place both your hands behind your back." The lieutenant turned his head ever so slightly to face one of the other officers. "Walters, fetch the restraining bolts."

Having feigned surrender, the attack from Cyborg was absolutely shocking when it came. He savagely kicked the chair directly in front of him, sending it crashing upward and off the ground. The wooden piece of furniture struck Fischer's outstretched hands, knocking the gun to the side and putting him awkwardly off balance. Cyborg snapped his sonic cannon open and fired an intense blast against the floor directly in front of the assembled constables, forcing them to instinctively and temporarily shield their faces from the flash of light and outpouring of wooden splinters. With the faintest window of opportunity now presented to him, Cyborg ran full tilt.

"_Open fire!"_ screamed Fischer, already discharging his weapon at the fleeing Cyborg as he flung himself over chairs and desks.

Four other handguns sprang to life, and bullet casings arced out of each one, falling to the floor with thin wisps of smoke curling upward from the heated metal. Cyborg charged across the room amid shattering glass and the terrifying sound of bullets narrowly missing him and tearing into the surrounding environment. Seeing a closed door directly ahead, Cyborg bent forward and smashed his shoulder into it, completely severing the wooden barrier from the hinges holding it in place and escaping the carnage lurking behind him.

"Damn it!" Fischer shouted. "Walters, radio the precinct. Tell them to converge on the station and apprehend Cyborg. Everyone else with me."

The lieutenant let the now empty clip fall from the handle of his gun, snatched another one from within his suit jacket, and snapped it upward into place. He rushed forward with three officers trailing close behind, each of them holding a handgun in front of their chests.

----------

"Starfire? Are you there?" Uneasiness slowly crept into the pit of Raven's stomach. Grey static swirled on the communicator's screen for another four painfully long seconds before Raven closed the device. "She's not answering."

Kid Flash fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. "It's been more than an hour, Raven."

"I know. She and Beast Boy should have been back by now."

"What do we do?" Jinx inquired. "We can't just stay here."

Raven rubbed her temples, causing her long strands of violet hair to sway as if being blown by wind. "I'm not sure anymore," she admitted.

"Then let's get out there," Kid Flash said. "We have to find the others."

"We don't even know where anyone is right now, or what's happened to them," Raven replied. "Charging out blindly won't do any good."

"Staying here doesn't do any good either," Jinx remarked.

Raven stabbed her pointer finger at the pale girl. "You'll do what Robin and I tell you to do."

"I'm sick of this!" Jinx retorted, jumping to her feet. "I came to help you."

Raven's eyes narrowed. "I don't care why you're here."

"Why can't you just trust me?" Jinx shouted.

"You've done nothing to earn my trust," countered Raven. "All you've _ever_ done is hurt us."

"I'm trying so hard to earn your trust!" she pleaded. "I really am! But you just won't let me!"

"Because you don't deserve it! How many opportunities did you have to leave the Hive? How many? But not _once_ did you even consider it."

"I _did_ consider it," Jinx answered, tears forming in her eyes. "Don't pretend like you know what I went through. I did think about leaving."

"I don't believe a damn word that comes out of your mouth. You can try to tell me you thought about it, but I still don't believe you."

"I've changed!" Jinx cried. "I don't know what else I could say. And I don't know what you want to hear. But I promise you that I've changed."

"Just save it," Raven snapped.

"Enough!" Kid Flash shouted. He grabbed Jinx's small hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "She _is_ trying to earn your trust. Jinx has done everything you've told her to do. She's sat in this room quietly ever since we arrived this morning. She hasn't tried to go anywhere, she hasn't tried to talk to you. I think after all that she's at least entitled to a little bit of faith. The others have sure given it to her."

Raven stared at Kid Flash, methodically evaluating him. Though he had not yet earned her full trust, he did at least warrant more of it than did Jinx. Despite a slight inkling to trust him more completely, she could not bring herself to open up to Jinx, regardless of his pleadings.

Her thoughts were interrupted by two sharp beeps, and she quickly turned around to see the words INCOMING CALL appear on the large display monitor. Raven rushed to the computer and punched in several keys, opening the channel. Eager to see the face of one of her most trusted friends, she was instead disappointed to find that none of them were attempting to contact the Tower.

"Commissioner Miller," Raven said in surprise. "What is it? Has something happened?"

Miller looked at her solemnly, pausing to carefully consider his words. "I wish that I had come to you on a happier note."

"What do you mean?" Raven asked in a confused tone. "What's wrong?"

"The Jump City Police Department, at the behest of Mayor Schwindt, has declared the Teen Titans vigilantes."

Raven's heart sunk. For two long months she had shouldered the burden of a terrible accident that claimed three lives. Civilians killed as a result of her own powers. Her hands were stained with blood. She had painfully accepted that this day might arrive, though her anxiety ridden thoughts did not make it any easier to hear.

"Out of respect to the assistance you have given this city in the past, I wanted to personally make this call. I'm advising you not to resist, Raven. Fighting the police department won't achieve anything. Please turn yourself in."

"Sir," Raven began, "we can finish what we started. There are serious threats in the city, and I know you're going to need our help to find them."

"No!" the commissioner shot back, suddenly flaring with anger. "We've already given you the opportunity and you've failed at it. I won't allow any more of my constables to be murdered."

Raven's pulse and breathing quickened and fear crept into her mind—fear for the safety of all her friends. "What's happened? Where is everyone?"

"Turn yourself in," Miller simply replied, once again calm. "It's for your own good."

His face faded away as the screen went black.

The muffled sounds of a distant explosion filled the air, and the Tower shuddered, vibrating through the soles of Raven's boots and up her spine. Crimson lights flashed amid the wailing whine of the alarm system.

Jinx sprinted to the window and pressed her face to the glass, staring at the craggy rocks far below. "There are JCPD boats down there!" she shouted.

Raven quickly stroked the keyboard, frantically inputting codes. "I'm bringing the security system online."

With nothing but a faint click the entire computer system died, along with the powerful lights and siren, bathing the entire room in darkness and silence. Outside the sun had completely set, giving way to black night, and the sky was littered with thick clouds.

"They've cut the power," Raven said.

"What do we do?" Kid Flash asked. "We're not actually turning ourselves in, right?"

Raven shook her head, though she doubted the others could see the movement. "You two get downstairs and stall them."

"What about you?" Kid Flash asked.

"I'm going to make one last attempt at contacting the others. They need to know what's happened. I'll join up with you the moment I'm done."

"Ok," Kid Flash replied. He whisked Jinx off her feet and transformed into nothing but a blur of red and yellow, disappearing through the open doorway and causing the air within the room to rapidly swirl among itself.

Raven grasped her small handheld communicator, the only piece of equipment that would still function once the Tower's electrical grid had been compromised, and flipped it open. The screen remained a fuzzy grey, and Raven cursed softly. She was not sure how much time she had.

Finally Robin's face appeared and Raven allowed herself a moment of joy. Miller had been difficult to read, but upon hearing his words a small part of her had instinctively worried that someone had been lost. It was immensely satisfying to see another face. The joy was fleeting though, for Raven quickly saw pain in his eyes and blood smeared across much of his face.

Even from the limited vision afforded by the device, Raven could see that he was lying on the ground. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm fine," he answered brusquely, pushing himself up off the floor. He coughed loudly and groaned from the pain it caused.

"Robin, listen to me carefully. The JCPD has declared us vigilantes. They're attacking the Tower right now. We all need to get moving—"

Two large canisters came crashing through the windows on either side of Raven, punching holes through the glass. Thin streaks of smoke trailed after both cylindrical containers, and before they had even bounced to a stop grey gas poured out, quickly overtaking much of the room. Raven's eyes filled with tears, stinging fiercely and interfering with her vision, and she could feel thick mucus streaming into her nose and throat. She whipped her arms upward to her face, covering most of it with the white cloak surrounding her body, and in the process flung the still active communicator several metres away.

"Raven?" came Robin's tiny voice, one that she could no longer hear. "Raven!"

Dark shapes filled the expansive windows, rapidly descending from the roof, and the glass shattered apart as six individuals from one of JCPD's tactical units burst through. Their boots touched down with loud crunches on the scattered bits of glass now lining the room, and each of them ducked into a crouch, already levelling their frighteningly effective MP5s.

Though her face was flush with pain, Raven shot her left hand forward, her palm and fingers outstretched. Potent black energy took hold of the weaponry spread out before her, and as she clenched her hand into a fist the submachine guns were wickedly torn from the officers' grips and clattered against the floor. Dark energy cascaded from Raven's knuckles and fingers and slammed into the two nearest officers, propelling them backward and out through the open window. The ropes still attached to the harnesses around their waists held firm, but the force of the impact upon their chests rendered them unconscious and left both individuals to hang freely in the night air.

Raven stretched her arms out and clasped her hands together far in front of her chest. A thick rectangle of black rose up from the floor between the other four officers, and as Raven whipped her arms away from one another the wall of energy split apart into two segments and screamed toward the officers on either side. Pained grunts escaped from their lips when the rectangles struck against them, tossing all four individuals sideways and driving their bodies into the walls on each side of the room.

As four unconscious bodies crumpled to the floor, a swirling circle of black appeared beneath Raven's feet and she collapsed into it, leaving the smoke filled room behind.

----------

Gradually the lids over her eyes lifted, basking the pupils with overwhelmingly bright lights. Starfire blinked several times and let her eyes adjust to the intensity of the room's artificial lighting. She felt groggy and drained of all life. Looking over, she could see a plastic bag of fluid hanging from a silver pole at her bedside, and from the end of it ran a thin tube that penetrated the flesh of her arm. Her head was resting on a pillow, and pristine white sheets were pulled over her legs and up to her stomach.

Though weak, Starfire tried to move her arms, but to her dismay she found the task impossible. Lifting her head slightly above the pillow, she could see that metal bands were clamped around her wrists, restricting her movement. When she attempted to move her legs she discovered they too were locked in place. Devoid of strength as she was, Starfire knew she would be incapable of breaking through even simple locks such as these.

Loud footsteps echoed into her room from the nearby hallway, and Starfire intently watched the open door, unsure whom she might expect to see. Eight individuals wearing full black uniforms, their faces covered, marched crisply into her room and spread out to utterly flank her bed. Each of them stared down at her and raised an MP5 submachine gun, even as she softly gasped in fear.

One of the individuals stepped forward, but did not let the barrel of his weapon waver. "Starfire of the Teen Titans, I am hereby placing you under arrest."

"What?" she asked, horribly confused by the situation. "What is going on? Where am I?"

"You are ordered to surrender yourself to the jurisdiction of the city. If you resist you will be considered a criminal."

"What have I done wrong?" she cried. "Where are my friends?"

"They are currently being apprehended," he answered. "I will not ask you again. Surrender yourself to us or we will open fire."

She was a hero, respected and admired by the populace, and grappled futilely with the problem of understanding how it was she came to be in this situation. What had become of her friends? Were they too being arrested? How could each of them, the most courageous, wonderful and loving people she had ever known in her life, have become criminals to the eyes of the city?

Starfire looked at the gleaming barrels of eight weapons, all pointed at her body, then down at the locks holding her limbs still. She was alone and uncharacteristically helpless, and the kind hearted Tamaranean knew she could not fight the legal authority.

"I surrender," she answered quietly.

----------

"All units, please be advised. Cyborg is fleeing westward from station 37 along Rourke Avenue. Requesting immediate assistance to apprehend."

Blair Crocker sharply twisted the steering wheel of his car, swerving hard to the left and whipping around one hundred and eighty degrees. His feet shifted from the brake to the gas pedal and he shoved down on the gearshift, propelling the vehicle to greater speeds. Provided Cyborg continued to travel in roughly the same direction, and that Crocker received sporadic updates via his radio that detailed which roadway the Titan was on, he could intercept Cyborg within six minutes.

The agonizing decision was not one made easily, yet Crocker knew what was required of him. For the continual safety of Jump City, it was imperative that he follow through with his gut instinct.

----------

Plaster and brick flew through the air, torn apart by the constant barrage of automatic weapon fire. Jinx shielded her head as she continued to crouch against the wall, which reverberated from the pounding gunshots. Twisting to the side, she thrust both her hands out from behind the corner and let loose with dancing pink swirls that arced forward and slammed into three officers, easily knocking them backward. Jinx snapped back behind the wall as bullets once more rained down upon her.

Across the hallway Kid Flash crouched behind the other corner, likewise instinctively shielding his face with both hands. Tattered fragments of the wall collected at their feet.

"I don't trust myself to make it through all that gunfire!" Kid Flash shouted to Jinx. "At least not while they're all lined up and can concentrate their fire!"

Jinx peeked around the corner, seeing the strength of the position the dozen officers held. A lone bullet sliced through the large pink mess of hair that was no longer protected by the wall and Jinx squealed and pulled her head back. Shredded strands of hair gently floated down to the floor.

"Get ready, lightning boy!" she shouted. "I'm going to try to scatter them!"

Jinx shoved her right hand around the edge and lashed out with pure chaos. Pink energy whipped and poured across the room, tearing into the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Officers lunged to the ground, racing apart from each other in an attempt to avoid the savage onslaught.

"Go, go, go!" she screamed.

A strong blast of wind tossed Jinx's hair and skirt about wildly as Kid Flash burst away from her at full speed. Hazy yellow and red appeared in a long line behind him as if he were a comet hurtling through space. The officers scrambled to raise their MP5s at the blur, but he was too frighteningly quick, overtaking them and buffeting each man and woman endlessly with his knuckles. Submachine guns were thrown through the air amid his strikes, and officers fell to the ground bloody and bruised, unable to offer even a token resistance against his speed.

He came whisking to a stop directly in front of Jinx, with small puffs of smoke emerging from beneath the soles of his bright boots. "Time to find Raven," he said quickly.

A black shadow coalesced before them, immediately taking on the features of Raven.

Kid Flash was about to say, "Speak of the devil," but immediately caught himself before uttering any of those words. Given Raven's parental heritage, he wagered such a line would not endear him to her in the least.

Raven coughed and choked, spitting out small bits of phlegm onto the floor. Her face was bright red, her eyes were swollen and still rapidly ejecting tears, and mucus was pouring from her nose.

"Are you okay, Raven?" Kid Flash asked.

"They're gassing the Tower," she answered, gasping for breath. "And entering floor by floor through the windows."

"What do we do?" Jinx asked.

"We get the hell out of here," replied Raven, fiercely sniffing.

Bullets chewed through the wall mere inches from Raven's head, and she whirled around to see six additional officers at the far end of the room. Firing a quick blast from her left hand, she shouted, "This way!" and charged around the corner.

Kid Flash and Jinx raced after her, moving quickly up the first flight of stairs they encountered. Grey mist hung in the air when they reached the next level, and immediately Jinx hacked violently. Kid Flash zipped around her and rapidly spun his arms in a circular motion, sending an onrush of air forward that cleared the stairwell of all traces of the gas. Behind them there were three large holes in the windows and strands of rope hung loosely outside, blowing in the cool night air.

Raven sneezed roughly. "They're nearby," she said.

Gunfire coursed upward from below, clinking against the metal railings and banisters, as the officers they had fled moments before pursued them into the stairwell.

"Out to the hall!" Raven shouted.

The three individuals charged beyond the stairwell into near total blackness. Bright flashlights came rounding a nearby corner, attached to the ends of submachine guns. Upon sighting the teens the officers opened fire, once more ejecting metal. Crisscrossed by lights and bullets, Raven led Kid Flash and Jinx down the corridor, running backward as best she could in order to unleash dark energy. Given that her eyes were still burning and moist, along with the effect of intense lighting directed at her face, Raven's aim was ineffectual. Jinx fared no better, struggling to identify targets in the dark while rushing at full speed.

Blistering pain enveloped Jinx's right thigh as a bullet tore into her flesh, splashing red over her leggings and the bottom of her skirt. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground, awkwardly rolling and bruising her elbows.

"Jinx!" Kid Flash yelled, screeching to a halt far down the hall.

Bullets continued to tear past overhead, and Jinx knew Kid Flash and Raven could be ripped to pieces should they return to help her. With a solemn and saddened heart, she thrust out her arms and lifted them to point upward. Her eyes flashed a vibrant pink as chaotic bursts erupted from her fingertips and exploded against the ceiling.

"_Get out of here!" _she screamed over the roaring and crashing of thick mortar and brick that crumpled apart and came tumbling to the floor in front of her.

In the last moments before she was utterly sealed off from the only hero who had ever unquestionably believed in the goodness of her heart, Jinx heard Kid Flash once more call her name.

----------

"_Jinx!"_ he shouted frantically. The last bits of rock settled before Kid Flash could reach her.

"We've got to go!" Raven said, grabbing his arm.

"I'm not going anywhere without her!" he retorted angrily, ripping free of her hold.

Raven aggressively reached out with both hands and grasped him by the fabric over his chest. "We're leaving _now!"_

"You've always hated her!" he screamed. "I don't care what you say!"

"She did that to _protect_ you! You can either honour her action or die going after her!"

Kid Flash breathed heavily but ceased fighting Raven's grip.

"She'll be okay," Raven said. "But you won't be if you try to get her. The only way we can save Jinx is to get out of this Tower."

Ire flared in Kid Flash's eyes, but Raven could sense that it was not entirely directed at her.

"We're not abandoning her," Raven continued. "But we have to leave."

Finally Kid Flash nodded, and together they ran.

----------

Jinx clutched at her leg as it involuntarily shook, watching thick red seep through the cracks in her fingers. White lights grew more powerful when the officers stopped directly in front of her, and Jinx rapidly blinked back tears.

"Bind her hands," one of them said. "And Pearson, stabilize her leg. After that we'll get her down to the boats and across the water to the vans."

A woman stepped forward and slung the submachine gun over her shoulder, withdrawing a small pouch from the back of her belt. She peeled away Jinx's hands and carefully set to work, while another man clamped thick metal over her hands.

Quietly Jinx whimpered.


	9. Lament

Once again I'd like to thank everyone who left an anonymous review for the last chapter. I can't respond individually to them, but I can sure thank each of you publically.

----------

Lieutenant Fischer wheeled his police cruiser around a pickup truck, the sirens atop his vehicle's roof wailing incessantly and projecting vibrant blue and red. Two other cruisers stayed tightly behind him, mimicking Fischer's every move as he desperately attempted to keep Cyborg's T-Car within his sights. The white and sky blue Titan machine swerved sharply to the left, hurtling through an intersection and imprinting two long, black tire marks on the pavement. Fischer copied the manoeuvre, though his cruiser came infinitely closer to crashing into a civilian vehicle that screeched to a halt.

The closest of the trailing police vehicles narrowly missed the obstacle, but the other nudged into the bumper of the civilian car, sending the cruiser careening wildly across the roadway and crashing to a stop wedged between two parked cars with its backend projecting up onto the sidewalk.

Fischer picked up the round walkie-talkie attached to the radio via a curling, black cord. "Cyborg's now traveling south on Mainmast Drive," he said, shifting to another lane. "Where's my Goddamn backup?"

Only a few dozen metres away Cyborg thrust his car into oncoming traffic and skilfully weaved in and among the panicked drivers that packed the street. Fischer remained on the right side, carefully watching the Titan as he neared another intersection. Abruptly Cyborg cut back across the right hand side of the road, crossing five lanes of mildly congested traffic, and cruised around the corner. Certainly not expecting such a reckless and drastic manoeuvre, Fischer was forced to slam on the brakes and aggressively whip the wheel to the right, spinning his vehicle wildly and nearly losing control as the back left tire came in contact with the far curb and kicked the rear end upward. The tires shrieked and ejected particles of smoke and burned rubber when Fischer crashed his foot back onto the gas.

Behind him the driver of the other cruiser failed to compensate in time and execute such a dangerous turn. Its wheels locked and the vehicle surged through two lanes before slamming into the engine of a station wagon, utterly crumpling the frame with a sickening crunch of metal.

Fischer cursed upon seeing the sight in his rear view mirror, but remained close to Cyborg, and once more he snatched the radio. "Target is now on James Wolfe Boulevard, heading west."

The T-Car rocketed around the slow moving vehicles in its path, reaching ever higher speeds. Its performance surely outmatched the capabilities of Fischer's cruiser, yet he knew Cyborg would not risk—and perhaps was not even quite skilful enough to attempt—achieving its maximum speed while confined within city streets and surrounded by civilians. Such a fact made it possible for Fischer to keep pace with the Titan.

Cyborg hurtled toward an impasse in the road formed by idling vehicles. Attempting to brake, he quickly realized he could not come to a stop in time and instead yanked hard on the wheel, tossing the T-Car into an uncontrollable sideways pitch.

The left side of the vehicle lifted completely off the ground, impelling the T-Car upward onto its roof, slightly bending the frame, while the severity of momentum pushed it still further into a series of rotations. Tires, bumpers, doors, windows and the roof all crashed repeatedly against the cement, tossing the vehicle over the trunk of a stationary sedan and lifting it onto the sidewalk, where it came sliding to a stop on its roof.

Fischer drove straight into the debris of glass and metal flung through the air, despite the cracks and chips that appeared against his windshield, and brought his car to a stop close to the upended vehicle. He whipped off his seatbelt and charged out the door, already withdrawing his handgun as he raced onto the sidewalk and crunched down on broken glass.

The driver side window having been shattered, Cyborg was in the midst of crawling out when he saw Fischer looming above him. The Titan's normally pristine body was covered in scratches and black smudges, while little surges of bluish white electricity sparked out from his joints.

"I wanted to bring you in without incident," Fischer said. "I trusted you to surrender yourself peacefully."

"I'm telling you that you're making a mistake," Cyborg groaned, the lower half of his body continuing to lie within the T-Car. "The city needs us."

"I'm going to give you one last chance to submit yourself to the city's authority."

"You know I can't do that," Cyborg responded.

"Then things are not going to be pleasant for either of us."

A lone figure lunged out from beyond a parked car toward Fischer, grabbing the gun and twisting his arm around, loosing the weapon from his grip. Fischer slammed his knee into his attacker's gut, but the man wretched his arm back further and then pounded his knuckles into Fischer's chin. The lieutenant fell back a step and the man struck his stomach, forcing him to lurch forward, then bashed his elbow into Fischer's back, dropping him to the ground. When Fischer stumbled in an attempt to climb back to his feet, the attacker whipped the back of his head with the pistol's handle, leaving him to collapse unconscious.

Still somewhat dazed from the magnificent crash, combined with the sheer suddenness and intensity of the assault, Cyborg remained prone on his stomach, staring up at the newcomer. It was a distinct possibility that the man had saved him, yet Cyborg was not wholly willing to extend an offer of trust to a stranger, regardless of the circumstances of his entrance.

The man bent forward, extending his hand down to Cyborg. "Come on, we've got to get moving."

Cyborg took his hand and used it to stagger to his feet. "Hold on, man. I'm not going any—"

"A JCPD tactical response team is heading here right now. I don't have the time to explain everything. Just get in my car and I'll fill you in on everything."

Cyborg pondered for a fraction of a second, realizing that the T-Car was not going to function anytime soon, and then chased after the man to an unmarked, black Crown Victoria parked haphazardly on the side of the road. Once Cyborg was in the passenger side front seat, the man triggered the ignition and swerved back onto the street, rapidly accelerating away from the scene.

"You better start telling me who you are," Cyborg said, not content to waste time.

"My name is Blair Crocker," he replied. "I was Frances Norman's partner."

Cyborg's demeanour shifted to one of sympathy. "I'm so sorry for what happened to her."

"So am I," Crocker replied. "But right now all I care about is finding the man responsible. And despite what Commissioner Miller may believe, we can't do that without you and the other Titans."

"I tried telling that to Lieutenant Fischer."

"The man's loyal to a fault. He'd be a fantastic officer if he could think for himself." Crocker sliced through an intersection and shifted left, turning at the following road. "Unlike him I don't consider you my enemy. Frances had complete trust in each of you, and believed Jump City needed the Titans. I'm willing to trust her instincts. It may be all I have left at this point."

"The JCPD will arrest you if they find out you're working alongside us. They'll revoke your badge and lock you up as a criminal."

"I know that. But I don't care anymore."

"I'm glad I have your trust," Cyborg remarked. "And I can promise you that we're already doing everything in our power to find the New Brotherhood."

"I just want Deadshot. I'll leave the rest of them up to you."

"First thing's first. We need to get Robin. Clancey's tactical team was sent to the prison not long ago to hold back the escaped prisoners. I'll wager that Robin's now a target too."

Crocker nodded. "I'm already heading that way."

----------

His hands clasped behind his back, Beast Boy crouched on his knees, festering with unbridled rage. As far as he could tell, it had felt like close to an hour since he had awakened, though without windows of any kind he could not hope to accurately predict the time. He was confined in a pitifully small cage and could feel a circular obstruction attached to his spine in the middle of his back.

The first instinct he had felt upon waking was to attempt transformation, but he was prevented from doing so in the most excruciating manner conceivable. The object on his back had sent deathly painful bursts of electricity over his body, forcing him to end his form change before it could even begin. Only one additional attempt had taught him to end all further desires of breaking free. His voice was raspy and sore from the screaming he had done shortly before, only stopping after it became all too clear no one was going to answer him.

The sounds of someone else softly crying perked up Beast Boy's ears, and he swivelled his head back and forth in attempt to locate its source. Finally Terra appeared before his cage, tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms roughly being held behind her back by a tall figure wearing a horrific black mask and covered by a dark cloak. Blood trickled from a dozen cuts upon Terra's face, and dark purple and black bruising coated much of her exposed flesh. Bits of her white collared shirt had been ripped and torn.

"Terra!" Beast Boy shouted.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I led them to you."

"Don't be," he replied. "None of this is your fault."

She continued to sob, and damp clumps of blonde hair stuck to her skin.

"Let her go!" Beast Boy shouted. "Do whatever you want to me, but just please let her go."

The man retrieved a small silver dagger from his belt and gently placed it against Terra's throat. Her body quivered, the snivelling no longer partially restrained. Feeble tears fell from her eyes and her breathing was rough and forced.

"Stop!" Beast Boy cried. "I'll do anything you want. Don't hurt her!"

Beast Boy stared into her beautiful blue eyes, the only part of her untouched by suffering, as the man drew the blade across the flesh of her throat, shearing it open and spilling spurts of blood. The scarlet liquid fell upon her white shirt and she choked ferociously, releasing still more blood from her mouth, and she collapsed to the ground in spasms.

"_No!"_ Beast Boy screamed, lunging forward. _"I'll kill you!"_ Tiny bolts of white lighting lanced across his entire body as he repeatedly attempted transformation, horribly burning his back and releasing thin lines of smoke. His small body crumpled to the floor amid his howls of pain, hot arcs still surging over his flesh and his arms and legs shaking and twisting.

The man reached down and took hold of Terra's ankle, carelessly dragging her corpse away from the cage and leaving streaks of blood along the concrete floor.

----------

"That mind is incredibly easy to manipulate," Phobia said.

Gemini watched with barely concealed delight as Beast Boy continued to writhe around on the floor and subject himself to unyielding voltage. "Now that was a most thoroughly enjoyable performance."

"His emotions are just so unrestrained and easily accessible," remarked Phobia. "Even as simple a vision as that girl's death brings him to the brink of collapse."

"Such suffering is deserved for his role in my mother's downfall. But we can leave him for now—there is much additional work to be done. Come."

There was no greater sound to Gemini's ears than that of Beast Boy's mewling, yet she could not afford to remain and listen. Together her and Phobia marched away.

----------

A stiff hand pushed against Jinx's back, throwing her into the back of the waiting black JCPD van. She stumbled and fell to the floor, unable to catch herself with hands that were now bound in thick steel, and harshly banged her knees. Another officer already waiting in the van grabbed her arm under the shoulder and pulled Jinx to her feet, sitting her down on the bench. With a loud slam the two doors were closed and locked tight, and there were no windows of any kind.

Outside Lieutenant Holland nodded at the officers assembled around him. "I'm going to ride up front in this van," he said. "The rest of you get in the others. Nelson and Wickerson, position your vehicle in front of ours. Pearson and Hurdy, follow behind us."

Holland marched to the passenger side and climbed in, removing his mask as he let out a deep breath. Beside him sat a stunningly gorgeous blonde woman, the tight black uniform she wore accentuating her every feature. She gave him a curt nod and remained silent. When the lead van pulled in front the woman started the ignition and slowly followed, traveling away from the docks and back onto the main roads.

With Jinx safely holed up in the back under armed guard, Holland allowed himself a moment to relax. Raven and Kid Flash had escaped their pursuit, but it was no small feat to have captured one Titan. Once they had dumped her in a cell they could rearm themselves and head back out into the night to acquire the others. In the hectic aftermath of the death of Marshall and killing of nearly a dozen officers, several tactical teams had been mashed together, so Holland was not surprised to find a woman beside him that he did not know. And with a few minutes to kill, the opportunity of remedying that and becoming familiar with her was a chance he intended not to waste.

"So," Holland began, "what unit are you with?"

"My own," the woman replied, retrieving the handgun attached to her waist and thrusting it toward Holland. His eyes widened in terrified surprise and he frantically scrambled to bring his own weapon to bear, but the woman fired quickly, showering the far window with blood and brain matter as the bullet tore through his temple. The shot, muffled as it was by the silencer, was barely audible even to her ears. Holland slumped forward in his seat, held in place only by the seatbelt.

Vala Jast firmly pressed the sole of her boot down on the gas, driving the van forward and crashing it into the rear of the lead JCPD vehicle, which forced it to wildly veer off the roadway and strike the concrete median dividing traffic. The van's front end was lifted up and over, but the rear snagged against the cracking cement, causing the vehicle to lurch awkwardly and collapse onto its side.

Dodging through lanes of cars in a vehicle only marginally more graceful than a beached whale, Vala Jast applied more pressure to the gas and managed to avoid collisions while simultaneously attempting to lose the pursuit of the trailing van. She only hoped her human cargo was not terribly wounded when she was capable of retrieving her.

----------

Jinx was flung off the bench to the other side of the van, hitting her shoulder against the metal siding and falling against her back. The officer with her attempted to steady himself, but he too was thrown around as the van dizzyingly swerved. As more contusions formed on Jinx's body, the van finally came to a rest. She shook her head to clear the faintness she felt.

The officer beside her pushed Jinx to the bench once more and stood in the centre, levelling his MP5 at the back entrance, so unsure of what to expect was he. Recognizing the possibility of rescue, Jinx resolved to take her chances and assume all the risk that might come with it. She kicked her foot into the outside of the officer's knee, buckling the limb and knocking him off stride. Jinx pushed off the bench with her good leg and whacked her forehead into the man's chin, and then hammered the metal bindings on her hands into his ribcage. Regaining his balance he elbowed Jinx square in the jaw and pounded the butt of his submachine gun against her chest, sending her crashing to the floor with a yelp.

Loud creaks reverberated from the doors as they were swung open, and the officer pivoted to face the potential threat, but lowered it immediately upon seeing a woman wearing the uniform of a tactical officer.

"What in God's name is going on?" he asked. "Are we—"

Vala Jast climbed into the vehicle with an upraised handgun and fired two shots in rapid succession, both penetrating the top of the man's body armour at the edge of his throat. He fell wheezing and gasping, and easily Vala stepped toward him and discharged one final round into his forehead.

Not wasting time for words, Jinx angrily screamed and leapt at Vala, swinging the bulky binders on her hands. Vala shifted her weight to her back leg and caught Jinx's arm just above the elbow, using the small girl's own momentum to slam her face first on the van's floor. Jinx swiped at Vala's shin with her foot, but was quickly constrained when Vala fiercely placed the sole of her boot on the back of Jinx's neck, forcing her cheek harshly against the cold metal.

Jinx squirmed as much as she was capable of, breathing only with difficulty. Adrenaline surging through her body, she was only vaguely aware of the intense throbbing within her thigh. She gritted her teeth, passionate rage filling her mind, and let herself lay still.

"My mission isn't to kill you," Vala said. "But continue to struggle and I might allow my parameters to change. Of course, had the police captured your little boy toy, I most certainly would have executed him."

"What the hell do you want?" Jinx cried.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Vala fished out a pair of handcuffs from the back of her belt and snapped one side of it in place around Jinx's ankle. The other end she attached to a pole running just below the bench, finally releasing Jinx's neck. Vala pointed to the binders around Jinx's hands. "Good of the police to stop you from being able to shoot those annoyingly cheerful blasts of yours."

----------

"Jesus Christ," Clancey said, feeling his stomach churning. The sight greeting him upon entering the northeast monitoring room was horrific. His men and women had fanned out and secured the remainder of the prison, but until now the hostages had been unaccounted for. Deep red dripped from the ceiling and the walls and was plastered across the floor. Clancey did all he could to refrain from retching.

The woman beside him starred in abject distress. She was, though silent, clearly queasy and disgusted at what had become of four Jump City police officers.

"Notify the commissioner," Clancey said.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"And get a team up here to gather the bodies."

----------

Cyborg tapped his arm and the small monitor came to life. After a moment Robin's face—bruised and covered in dry blood—appeared.

"Robin, you okay?"

He winced, but the features of his face held firm. "I'm fine."

"The JCPD turned on us," Cyborg said. "They're calling us criminals."

"I know," Robin answered.

"Have you heard from anyone?"

"Just Raven. But police stormed the Tower. I don't know what happened."

"Where are you now? We need to get everyone together."

"I'm at the prison still." Robin groaned and closed his eyes. "There's a tactical team here. They haven't seen me yet, but I'm still pinned down."

"Hang tight, I'll be right there."

"No," Robin ordered. "Stay clear. This shouldn't take longer than a few minutes. I'll be in touch when I'm out."

"You got it. Keep safe." The image faded away to black.

"Any idea where the others are?" Crocker asked.

"None. I don't have communicator signals for Starfire, Beast Boy, Speedy, Raven or Jinx."

Crocker took hold of the radio. "This is Detective Blair Crocker," he said into it. "I've lost contact with Lieutenant Fischer. Any chance of getting an update on the locations of the Titans?"

"One moment," a male voice replied. "I was about to send out a report in a minute."

"Roger that. I'll keep steady and wait for it." Crocker flipped the two-way speaker off so that his radio could only receive transmissions—rather than vice versa—which would allow Cyborg and he to talk without any others being aware of such a conversation.

"Wait," Cyborg continued, "Kid Flash is still transmitting. Guess he managed to get himself out of the Tower. Let me see if I can reach him."

Tapping another few buttons brought up a fuzzy grey screen, which quickly materialized to show Raven's face.

"Rae!" Cyborg shouted. "You're okay. When I heard the Tower had been hit…"

"It's good to see your face," she replied. "I wasn't sure what's been happening."

"Is Kid Flash still with you?"

"Yeah, he's here with me. We've made our way into the city."

"And Jinx?"

"She didn't make it out," Raven said. "Jinx gave herself up to buy us time."

Cyborg gritted his teeth and winced. "Are you in contact with anyone else?"

Raven shook her head. "No one. You're the first. Where is everyone?"

"I'm with Detective Crocker right now, and Robin's been delayed at the prison by a tactical team. But he doesn't want support—he'll just slip out and contact us. I don't know what's happened to anyone else."

"Detective Crocker?"

"Frances' partner. He's on our side."

Raven appeared sceptical, but continued. "We need to meet up and figure out what our next move is."

"I'm with you on that," Cyborg answered. "You and Kid Flash able to get to the Mills Overlook on the west side of town?"

Raven nodded. "We can be there soon."

"Crocker and I will be there in twenty. See you then."

When the screen returned to black, Cyborg looked up at Crocker. "You know the way?"

Crocker simply nodded.

"Attention all units," came a voice from over the radio. "Cyborg has evaded capture and was last seen on James Wolfe Boulevard heading west. Robin's last known whereabouts was the prison, though his current location is unknown, as is Beast Boy's. Raven and Kid Flash were last seen fleeing Titans' Tower, and are presumed to still be within the city limits. Starfire has been arrested and is now in police custody."

"Damn it," Cyborg said softly.

"Jinx was apprehended at Titan's Tower, though she has since broken free and her current whereabouts remain unknown."

"Good girl," Cyborg whispered with a smile.

"Speedy's body has been found with a single shot through the chest. Questioned witnesses claim to have seen him pursuing a single figure matching the known description of Deadshot before he was killed."

Cyborg bellowed in anguish—a near deafening cry—and slammed his fists against the dashboard, crumpling the flimsy material easily and drowning out the remainder of the police report. _"No!"_ he screamed.

Crocker squeezed the wheel a little tighter and bit his lower lip, barely constraining himself from unleashing his own wail.

----------

Robin gently slipped off the R-Cycle and pulled his helmet away from his head, letting the cool night breeze ruffle his hair. He was sweating profusely, and every inch of his body, especially his muscles and joints, burned with pain. Exfiltrating the prison had not consumed an inordinate amount of time, but it had certainly dissolved any strength that remained within him. Though some of that inner resolve had slowly crept back during the drive into the city, he was not yet at a point where he could in any conceivable way confront the Brotherhood.

Robin stumbled to the side, finding it increasingly difficult to walk under his own power. He slumped against the brick wall beside him and dragged himself forward, heavily relying on the building for steadying. Overcome with a sudden bout of nausea, Robin leaned forward and retched for several excruciating seconds. Without the slightest reservation, Robin knew that he was getting worse.

Not far ahead an alleyway met the sidewalk, and Robin could just barely distinguish muffled voices in the darkness. He crept along the wall and peered down the alley, sighting two men wearing dark coloured baggy clothing and hunched over a cardboard box that had been procured for use as a table. If this did not work, then Robin was utterly out of options and would—perhaps—be unable to go any farther. Consequently he summoned every last ounce of strength and willpower that remained in his frame and strode forward into the shadows.

One of the men looked up, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the Titan walking toward them. "Shit!" he shouted. "Move your ass!"

Both individuals turned their backs to Robin and attempted to sprint through the alley to a roadway on the other side, but Robin snatched a birdarang from his belt and hefted it forward. Slicing through the air silently, the weapon struck one of the men in the calf, sending him careening to the ground in a heap. The other man refrained from stopping, and continued running until he was out of sight. But it was no matter to Robin—he had one of them, and that was all he needed.

Robin bent down and roughly grabbed the man's oversized jacket, shaking him violently as he spoke. "What drugs do you have?"

"Naw man, I ain't got shit!"

Robin slammed one of his fists into the man's jaw. "I know you deal drugs! Tell me what you have!"

"Piss off, bitch!" the man shouted.

Thrusting him backward against the wall, Robin drove his boot into the man's ribcage and smashed his own knuckles against the thug's cheekbone. "Tell me what you have!" Robin screamed again. Pausing for a moment, Robin clutched at his own ribcage as it howled in pain, exceedingly relieved that he had just forced the drug dealer's face downward and thus his vulnerability remained unknown.

"Bitch, I ain't going back to jail!"

"I don't give a shit where you go!" Robin shouted, his temper building dangerously. "Now give me your drugs, asshole!"

"Go fuc—"

Robin's fist hammered into the man's face, loudly cracking a bone and leaving him to collapse unconscious. Groaning from the sheer agony his body suffered from, Robin fell to his knees and let out a howling cry. His breaths were raspy, his throat and mouth were utterly parched, and he could taste vomit.

Leaning forward, he ripped open the man's coat and frantically yanked out all the ziplock bags he could find, the task increasingly difficult as the muscles in his arms convulsed and shook. A piece of tape was affixed to each small bag, upon which was written the drug that was contained within. Robin could at least be glad that he had found a well organized criminal.

Tossing aside bag after bag, he finally found one labelled "Percoset" and tore it open, letting the small tablets fall into his hands. Though his own knowledge of medications was sorely lacking in comparison to Cyborg, Robin at least recognized the names of several prescription painkillers. He popped two of the pills into his mouth and swallowed only with much effort. The remainder he poured into one of the empty compartments on his belt.

Robin sat back and closed his eyes, allowing several minutes to pass until he could feel the drug take effect. The nausea burrowed in the pit of his stomach remained, indeed it steadily grew worse, but the aching pain subsided. A nauseous sensation he could deal with and conquer—it was the pain that Robin required powerful medication for.

Grateful to once again be capable of functioning, Robin opened his communicator and signalled Cyborg, who appeared on screen within several seconds. His face was a sullen serious.

"You make it out okay, Robin?"

"Yeah, I'm out. Have you had any contact with the others?"

"I'm with Raven, Kid Flash and Crocker right now. We were just waiting to hear from you."

"And the others?"

Cyborg shook his head. "We don't know."

"Where are you?" inquired Robin.

"Mills Overlook to the west."

"I'm nearby. I can be there in ten minutes. Robin out." He closed the device, fastened it to his belt again, and walked back to his motorcycle, his muscles no longer screaming in torment.

----------

The road stretching out before him winded upward and behind a series of large hills dotting the west side of Jump City, and Robin followed the path to the point on the tallest mount that was known as the Mills Overlook. A lone Crown Victoria sat on a grassy plain at the edge of the frequently disused road, and when Robin brought his vehicle to a stop he could see several figures standing nearby.

None of them said a word as Robin approached, nor did they even make eye contact. "What's the situation?" Robin asked.

"Not a good one," Cyborg replied. "We have no idea where Beast Boy is, and Starfire's being held by the JCPD."

Robin placed his palms on the back of his neck, weighed down by the mounting sense of defeat. "Jinx and Speedy?"

"Jinx was taken by police at the Tower, but she managed to break free somewhere in the city. She doesn't have a communicator though, so we have no idea where she might be."

Robin saw the look of torture within Kid Flash's eyes, visible even through the mask shielding the upper half of his face.

"And Speedy?" Robin asked.

Cyborg grimaced in obvious pain at the mention of his name, and Robin could see a single tear roll down Raven's cheek. Dark foreboding washed over Robin and it was not difficult to feel the sense of despair that hung in the air. Still he would not believe the worst until his own ears had heard those fateful words.

"Robin," Cyborg finally said. "He's dead."

The strength of Robin's legs faltered as his knees buckled, and nausea—undoubtedly separate and more intense than what he had experienced as symptoms of drug withdrawal—coalesced within his stomach and chest. "How?" Robin croaked, despite the fact that part of him already knew the answer.

"It was Deadshot," Crocker answered. "Just like it was with Frances."

Sweltering rage festered within Robin, numbing the agony in his bones and muscles with far greater success than the Percoset could ever achieve. Deadshot was the lone image in his mind, and Robin's only emotion was that of horrific anger. There was no time for despair or sorrow—vexation was all he could feel. Through the intense fury he could think of only one thing that would undo the wrongs committed. The death of Deadshot.


	10. Jinx's Ruination

Robin palmed the heavily scarred and scratched communicator, finding the courage to open it and deliver a message that he knew would surely devastate a close friend. But it was his responsibility to make such a call—from one leader to another.

The screen buzzed grey static for a moment and then Bumblebee's face materialized. She was all smiles, showcasing perfectly white teeth and the nearly imperceptible dimples that formed on her cheeks.

"What's shaking, Rob?" she asked happily. "Is the red head driving you crazy yet?"

Robin's face remained grim, his emotions hid behind the veil that constituted his mask. The news would cause irreparable damage to the jovial girl. But it had to be done.

He told her of Speedy's fate.

----------

Cyborg watched their leader from a distance, surveying Robin as he brought horrific news to Speedy's closest friend. In the midst of the current quagmire of suffering, Cyborg certainly did not want to broach Robin regarding his addiction. Yet it was profoundly dangerous for Robin to give in to his darker emotions while already experiencing the pain of withdrawal.

What choice did Cyborg have? For every minute that passed, one of the missing Titans could be in pain. It was immensely important for all their efforts to be focused on finding and retrieving the others. A confrontation with Robin would inherently be a distraction. He desperately needed help, of that Cyborg was sure, but Robin's difficulties were sorely lacking and less pressing in comparison to those Beast Boy, Starfire and possibly Jinx were living through. Treatment for Robin would have to wait.

"Something on your mind?" Raven asked, stepping up beside Cyborg.

For the time being she did not know. Nor could Raven find out, if she was to be capable of focusing on the upcoming engagement with the New Brotherhood. "No, nothing," Cyborg lied.

"Well there's something on my mind," she replied. "Have you noticed anything strange about Robin?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I just know that he seems distant, more distracted than usual. I can feel that his mind is…I don't know. Just different. There's more anger within him, more confusion."

"He's taking things hard, that's all. I wouldn't try to look too much into it."

"I just wish I knew what to think."

Cyborg turned on the soft grass and placed his hand upon Raven's shoulder. "Robin's fine. He'll get through this."

Raven nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.

Cyborg only wished that he could fully and unflinchingly believe his own words.

----------

The calm swaying and rustling of nearby leaves in the tranquil night air did little to settle Robin's mind as he closed the communicator. All the training, meditations and thoughts that he had undertaken through his teenage years had been strictly focused on suppressing unwonted rage and aggression. Learning of the dangers and limitations of unfocused anger was a quick and brutally efficient lesson. It had only taken one slip up, years and years ago, which had required the swift intervention from his mentor, to teach Robin the value of maintaining a demeanour devoid of fury.

Yet clouded and murky as his mind was presently, those lessons had altogether vanished amid the sweltering ire now consuming Robin. Thoughts of justice were smothered by the desire for vengeance. Terrible as it may seem, his mind wished for nothing less than Deadshot's death for the cruel murder of Speedy. Tonight, blood would be spilled for blood. And all the dangers that Batman had long since warned of quickly became possible. Robin was so hell-bent on retribution that years of mental training and conditioning evaporated—without a second thought or so much as a flicker of doubt.

----------

Gemini stood perfectly straight with both hands clasped behind her back, staring at the small cell that would soon house Jinx. Beside her Phobia stood equally as still.

"Do not allow yourself a mistake," Gemini instructed. "If we are to be successful with Jinx every aspect must be undertaken flawlessly."

"Worry about your own performance," Phobia retorted. "I know what I'll be doing." Not bothering to even offer a glance toward the other woman, Phobia walked out of the room, to where she would not be visible to Jinx.

Gemini allowed herself a moment to take in the surroundings. Procuring a secondary base had proved time consuming, but necessary if the deception was to work accordingly. The present location was even sparser than the condominium several blocks away, with only the single cage decorating the room.

Behind her a single doorway opened, and Gemini turned to see Vala Jast heaving Jinx forward, who was having a difficult time remaining on her feet and continued to falter. In addition to her bound hands, the small girl was also blindfolded, and Vala forcefully pushed her toward the cell. Ripping off the blindfold, Vala offered one final push that tossed Jinx onto her stomach within the cage.

Jinx rolled over with some difficulty and propped herself up into a sitting position, staring at the two women with clearly displayed ire.

"You may leave now, Vala," Gemini instructed.

Vala gave a slight nod of her head and departed from the room.

"Not especially talkative, that one," Gemini said, nudging her thumb in the direction of Vala's exit. "But you and I have much to discuss, I think."

"I have nothing to say to you!" Jinx shouted.

"Come now. Do not be so quick to dismiss a potential ally."

"I'll never side with you!" cried Jinx. "You're a horrible person! Just like your mother! I'm glad I helped bring her down."

"That is where you are wrong, I am afraid. I am not a horrible person. I simply look upon things quite differently than the Titans. And right now I may prove to be the only chance you have for survival."

"Don't even waste your breath," Jinx responded. "I'm happy where I am. I'm happy with my friends."

"But are they happy with you?" Gemini asked. "I doubt very highly that you have their undivided trust."

Jinx hesitated for a moment at the comment, but recovered quickly. "They trust me."

"I cannot believe they are all so willing to trust you."

"They do…they trust me." Jinx fought hard not to stumble over her words.

"All of them?"

"Y-yes," Jinx said hesitatingly, "of course."

"They would never turn on you?"

"_Stop it!"_ Jinx screamed, shaking her head.

Gemini leaned in close and wrapped her fingers around one of the cell bars. "They do not hold you in high regard."

"_I said stop it!"_ Jinx's eyes flashed a brilliant pink, but the metal binders around her hands prevented her from unleashing anything other than words.

"Deep down you know the Titans do not trust you. They merely tolerate you."

"_No!"_

"They hate you."

"Kid Flash loves me!" shouted Jinx. "He'd never betray me!"

"Ah, but do the others have enough faith in Kid Flash to trust you utterly? If he were gone, would they continue to honour that trust in you?"

"I don't care! He's all I need."

"Jinx, surely you must be aware that the others continue to allow you among them only so long as Kid Flash is at your side. Without him they would not hesitate tossing you aside."

Jinx closed her eyes and sharply turned her head away. "Shut up! Just shut up!"

"But it does not have to be this way. I can grant you a place within the New Brotherhood. Here you will be among people who are not suspicious of you. Here you will be accepted."

A single tear fell from Jinx's eye.

"It will be as you had always desired. It was not long ago that you wished to join our ranks, Jinx. It can be so again. And with us you would—"

The floor shook violently, rattling Jinx's very bones, and powerful explosions erupted so close they echoed through her skull.

"No!" Gemini screamed, looking around. "Not yet!"

As Gemini rushed out of the room, Jinx struggled to her feet and stood, her leg still aching with hardened pain. In the distance she could hear the sounds of unfettered combat, periodically feeling the floor and walls vibrate. Screams and shouts of rage filled the air.

With an onrush of wind Kid Flash appeared from around the corner, smiling widely the moment his eyes sighted the pink haired girl.

"Flash!" Jinx shouted excitedly.

Kid Flash grabbed hold of two bars directly in front of Jinx and vibrated his arms so ferociously that the metal quickly contorted and bent, lost in a blurry haze of movement too rapid for the naked eye to track. Finally the metal snapped off in his hands, which he discarded immediately. He reached into the cell and gently placed his hand on Jinx's upper arm.

"Come on!" he said. "I don't know how much time we've got!"

"My hands!" she shouted, holding up the thick metal wrapped around the ends of her arms. "We need to get this off!"

"We'll deal with it later, I promise. We just have to get moving."

Kid Flash led her forward through an open doorway and Jinx was instantly surrounded by chaos. Flames arced through the air and off the walls, charred black decorated much of the open surfaces, as did craterous holes. The air was thick with smoke, leaving Jinx unable to pick out figures engaged in the carnage. A flash from Cyborg's blue cannon tore across on the other side of the room, as did emerald balls of energy, both drowned out by the sound of Deadshot's repeating guns returning fire.

The sound of Raven wailing in pain caused a chilling sensation to coat Jinx's skin, so terrifying was it.

"_Enough!"_ Raven screamed.

Even through the billowing black smoke two blood red eyes were suddenly visible, and within a moment a furious tempest swirled through the room, dissipating the smoke and finally revealing to Jinx where everyone stood. Raven floated several feet above the floor and unleashed a horrific shriek, spewing black magic outward from her hands. The dark energy twisted and curled turbulently within the room, slamming into the chests and stomachs of each Brotherhood member and fiercely propelling them backward. Despite this the blasts continued to rain down upon the room.

"_Raven!"_ shouted Robin. _"Stop!"_

A thin streak coursed at Starfire, and she only barely managed to lift upward and above it. Tearing out of Raven's right hand came another arc of pure darkness, and Jinx's eyes widened in horror as it curved straight into her path. Two firm hands pressed on her shoulder and heaved her to the floor. Jinx landed hard, able just barely to see Kid Flash standing where she had only a moment before as the salvo pounded against his chest. He screamed incoherently and fell to his knees, his arms shaking in terrible convulsions, wisps of smoke rising upward from burned flesh. Tears exploded from Jinx's eyes and she screamed as the full weight of pure agony and torment was laid on her mind. Wavering ever so slightly, Kid Flash collapsed in a heap.

As if realisation had slapped into Raven, she dropped to the ground and a normal facial expression once again returned, assuming the look of confusion and shock. Robin was at her side instantly, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him so he could support and comfort her.

"_Titans, fall back!"_ Robin screamed.

"Don't go!" Jinx shouted.

The others back peddled and departed with Robin through a cavernous hole in the wall, disappearing without so much as a glance toward their fallen comrade.

"_No!"_ howled Jinx. _"You can't leave us!"_

Jinx wept harshly, barely able to breathe through the long whimpers. Her head rested on Kid Flash's lifeless shoulder, slowly wetting his uniform with her tears.

Appearing behind her, Gemini bent down onto one knee and placed her hand on Jinx's back.

"They just left us," Jinx sobbed, without looking up. "How could they just leave us?"

"You see how easily the Titans discard you?"

"But why would they do that to us?"

"I am truly sorry that such a thing needed to occur for you to see their true selves."

"They abandoned us!" Jinx cried out, anger flaring abruptly. "I hate them!"

"Join with us, and you can have your revenge on them for his death."

Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks flushed red, but there was no mistaking the resolve on Jinx's face. "I'll join with you," she said defiantly, as pink rage flashed within her eyes. "I'll help you end them."

"You may mourn Kid Flash's passing for a short while, but then we must leave this place. It is no longer safe."

Gemini stood and walked away from Jinx, over to where Phobia stood with a crooked smile on her face.

"I'd say that went well," Phobia remarked.

"Very well," Gemini answered.

"Thanks to my stirringly powerful vision."

"Indeed. With it, we have brought her over to our side. Jinx is now ours."

----------

Once they had returned to the partially completed condominium, Vala Jast escorted Jinx to a small room one floor below their main operations level. The small girl had remained quiet throughout the entire journey, though there was no mistaking the resolve on her face. Vala knew she desired, above all else, revenge against those who had supposedly betrayed her. Not one to implement deceit and manipulation herself, Vala still had to admire individuals who possessed those qualities in such tremendous abundance. Gemini and Phobia were truly extraordinarily gifted at swaying the minds of others.

"You may rest here for a while," Vala said, pointing to an unassuming cot. "You'll need to recover your strength for when the engagement begins."

Jinx nodded through eyes that were narrowed and consumed by rage.

Vala quickly returned to the others one floor above and nodded to Gemini as she approached the table they were gathered around. "She's down there resting. And there's no chance of hearing Beast Boy's wails from where she is."

"Excellent," Gemini said. "Then it is time to initiate the final stage. But first, my congratulations are due to each of you for your roles thus far. We have made the Titans outlaws in their own city, neutralized three of them—one permanently," she remarked with a smile, "and converted one to our cause. Only four Titans remain in our way. Consequently, it is time to bring them to us, for we now hold the numerical advantage."

"What about Kid Flash?" Deadshot asked. "Jinx is going to be with us only so long as she thinks he's dead."

"I'll make sure her mind doesn't become aware of his presence," Phobia answered. "And I'll keep his mind too busy to look for her."

"It will only be natural for Jinx to fixate her hatred against Raven, so we will allow her to do just that. Dashan, you will eliminate Cyborg."

The monstrosity pounded his fist against one of his palms and nodded.

"Deadshot and Vala will act as support, and move where they are required to."

"Leaving Robin for yourself," Vala remarked.

Gemini could not hide the satisfied look from her face. "Yes, I will handle Robin personally."

"All that's left then is bringing them here," Deadshot said as he leaned against the table, carefully polishing a slender rifle.

Gemini retrieved a yellow communicator from the top of the table. "This device formerly belonged to Beast Boy. It has been disabled for some time." She nudged it open with her thumb. "I will activate it for but a second. The surge should notify the others, who will naturally assume it transmitted accidentally. In all likelihood they will proceed here immediately, believing that they have caught us off guard and unprepared."

With a flick of her finger, the communicator beeped to life. Letting it remain active for only a moment, Gemini snapped it shut again. "And now," she began, "we wait for their imminent arrival."

----------

Cyborg's arm lit up brightly and wailed loud enough for all the others to hear. "Whoa, whoa," Cyborg said in surprise.

"What is it?" Kid Flash asked.

"A communicator signal," Cyborg replied. "But it's faint, barely more a blip." He frantically tapped a few keys, bringing up readings and maps on the small screen. "Give me a minute."

The wind stirred ever so slightly, the only sound in the air aside from Cyborg's keystrokes, and flitted the cape and cloak that hung over the shoulders of Robin and Raven.

"Got it!" Cyborg half shouted. "It's BB's communicator."

"You've found him?" Robin asked.

"I've got an approximation. It's hard to tell from this distance. But I think I can maintain the triangulation until we can get ourselves closer. I might be able to pin it down with more accuracy then."

"Then are we moving out?" inquired Kid Flash.

"If Beast Boy still had his communicator he wouldn't turn it on for a second," Raven said. "He'd be doing all he could to keep it online."

"So you think the New Brotherhood has it?" Crocker questioned.

Raven nodded. "And Beast Boy along with it."

"Then chances are they activated it accidentally," Cyborg remarked. "Turned it on without meaning to, and then quickly made sure it stayed off."

"Which means they might have just inadvertently told us where they are," Robin stated. "They may not even realise we're able to figure out their location from such a short transmission."

"If we move quickly we might be able to surprise them," Kid Flash said.

"Where are they?" Crocker asked.

"Downtown," responded Cyborg. "Near the heart of the Financial Sector."

"I'll keep Kid Flash's communicator and stay in the air. Then he can go with Cyborg and Crocker," Raven instructed. "Robin, take your cycle. That way each of us has access to a working communicator."

Raven's feet lifted off the ground, and from above she watched Robin climb onto the R-Cycle while the other three assumed positions within the Crown Victoria. When both vehicles rushed forward to the winding roadway that led back down into the city, Raven followed at a distance, a high vantage point where she could carefully monitor things.

----------

Deadshot leaned against the edge of the concrete roof, peering into the night through the scope of his sniper rifle. He was atop the office building directly across the street from the partially completed condominium that housed the others. Given that it was approaching one o'clock in the morning on a weeknight, the streets were close to deserted, even in such a densely populated city. The red and white lights of cars slowly passed back and forth far below him, while a few pedestrians dotted the sidewalks. On such a quiet night, and to eyes as well trained as Deadshot's, it would be a simple matter to see the Titans' approach.

----------

Cyborg carefully monitored the readings on his arm as it ticked through sections of a grid of the city, narrowing down the location as best it could from the fragmentary transmission. "Pull over here," he said.

Crocker shifted the wheel and came to a rest at the side of the road, surrounded by massive edifices on either side. But for a lone car that would sporadically flash past, the only lights were offered by the streetlamps.

Kid Flash leaned forward in the back seat. "So where is it?"

Looking past Crocker and outside the driver side door, Cyborg pointed to a structure that was quite clearly still under construction. "It looks like the signal came from that building. But it wasn't strong enough to pinpoint what floor." He tapped another key on his arm and the screen flashed to a dual image, one showing Robin and the other displaying Raven. "They're in the building across the street from us, the one that isn't finished. I don't know where exactly though."

"I'll move in through the roof," Raven said.

"I want the rest of us to split up and circle the building," Robin added. "We'll enter in separate areas and make our way up. Let's move."

----------

"I think I've got something," Deadshot said into the small microphone that dangled close to his mouth.

"What is it?" came the reply from Gemini.

"A black Crown Victoria is sitting directly across from you on the south side of the street. That type of car stinks of the JCPD."

"But what of the Titans?"

"Wait, I've just spotted Robin a block away. Looks like he's going to move in from the west side."

"Can you see who is within the vehicle? It cannot be the police."

"Not yet," Deadshot replied. "But I can see Raven. Hard to miss her in the white clothing she's sporting these days. She's touching down on the roof."

"Excellent," Gemini remarked. "Just where we had anticipated her to be."

"Ok, the car doors are opening. I've got Cyborg and Kid Flash in my sights. And another individual, but I can't see his face yet." Deadshot held the rifle in place, keeping it steady on the back of the man's head as he finally turned around. "Him!"

"Who is it?"

"Detective Norman's old partner. Kepler or Crocker or something like that."

"He must surely have made himself an enemy of the police in order to assist the Titans," Gemini said. "I will position Vala to intercept him."

"The three of them are splitting up. Kid Flash has zipped his way over to the north side, and it looks as though Cyborg is going to veer to the east, which'll leave the cop at the south."

"I will have the others assume their places."

"You want me back over there?" Deadshot asked.

"Yes," answered Gemini. "It would not be as enjoyable to have the Titans eliminated before they have even arrived. You may join in on the festivities once you have returned here."

"You got it. Deadshot out." He twisted off the scope and various parts of the barrel, carefully placing each in the open case at his feet, and then swung the case over his shoulder and ran toward the doorway on the opposite side of the roof that would lead downward.

----------

Her cape flapping in the breeze, Raven gently touched down on the rooftop and dropped into a crouched position for a moment. The night air was silent, but since she was still recovering from the gassing she experienced in the Tower, Raven's heightened senses were much weaker than normal. She could feel the unmistakable energy of numerous individuals, but it was impossible for her to successfully pinpoint any of their locations.

Slowly Raven stood and walked toward the doorway a dozen metres away, which served as the only construct on the otherwise entirely flat roof. Once she was only a handful of metres distant from it, the door exploded into tiny fragments and a wave of swirling pink lashed out from beyond it, pounding into Raven's chest and heaving her backward.

Jinx leapt forward and unleashed a further bout of bright energy toward her one-time ally, but Raven whipped black from her hands as she lay on her back, and the two surges slammed into one another, erupting potently and whisking the air around violently. Raven rolled away from the epicentre, bringing herself back onto her feet. Grey smoke faded into the night, revealing a blackened rooftop and the two figures standing on either side of the blast. There could be no mistaking the hate in their eyes, or the enmity in their hearts.

"_You bitch!"_ Raven screamed. _"We let you into the Tower! Our home!"_

"_You never let me in!"_ Jinx cried. _"I tried to be a Titan! But you hated me!"_

"_You never deserved to be a Titan! You never deserved our trust! I knew all along you'd betray us! You're worthless!"_

"_No! You betrayed me first! And I'll kill you for it!"_

Jinx lunged with outstretched hands, spewing forth chaos, even as wickedly dark magic burned through the air toward her.


	11. Crossing the Line

So I just realized I've been making a pretty obvious mistake in a few places. As you all know, I have Raven wearing a full white uniform, and when she wears that colour her energy and powers are also white. But I've been writing them as black in the previous few chapters. Since I just caught that mistake now, there's nothing I can do about earlier chapters, but from this chapter onward her energy is described as being white. Just in case any of you were confused why it suddenly was no longer black.

Oh, and sorry for being a day late. This chapter took a little longer to edit than I expected.

----------

Pink and white hammered together, tearing and surging into one powerfully volatile mass. Strands of energy erupted on either side, sending both combatants diving frantically. Raven landed in a roll and sprang up firing, the blast narrowly arching past Jinx as she deftly cart wheeled. Once back on her feet, the smaller girl pointed her fingers and unleashed a concerted volley of tiny, razor sharp darts of energy. A convex shield sprouted outward from Raven's hands, allowing the projectiles to splash harmlessly against it. The Azarathian shoved her hands forward, rapidly pushing the shield across the rooftop at her foe.

Jinx attempted to dive aside, but the edge of the shield struck her shin, propelling her into a vicious spin. Raven sprinted toward her as she struggled to climb to her feet, and whipped her right foot into the air, striking Jinx's cheekbone hard. The intensity of the blow forced her head to snap back and tossed her to the ground. Jinx twirled on the rooftop, crashing the sole of her boot against the inside of Raven's left leg and tossing her foe into an awkward position. Jinx upraised one of her hands and discharged a pink surge, yet it deflected off a quickly formed white orb on Raven's hand, sending the energy shooting skyward as if it were an inverted bolt of lightning.

Springing to her feet, Jinx swung wildly with her right arm and then her left, both strikes falling short as Raven arched her back in avoidance. Jinx whipped her left leg around in a powerful roundhouse and Raven easily ducked underneath, letting the boot sail overhead. Already spinning as she lowered her body, Raven kicked out her leg at Jinx's ankle, though the agile girl leapt upward and spread her arms outward so that her palms made contact with the ground first. Propelling herself through the loop, Jinx thrust her leg toward Raven, once again missing high.

A white circle swirled into existence around Raven's clenched fist as Jinx returned to her feet and pink fire coursed over her own fist, dancing and illuminating the dark rooftop. The two women charged forward, pulling back their arms so as to greatly enhance the speed and strength that they could unleash. With a tempest wind howling and destroying the calm that existed only moments before, their fists—coated in horrifically deadly energy—smashed into one another. White and pink fleetingly coalesced into one substance and then exploded outward, throwing Raven and Jinx through the air. Their limp bodies crashed against the surface of the roof, and they careened and rotated fiercely before skidding to a halt on opposite ends of the building.

----------

Former police detective Blair Crocker hunched forward as he ran toward the condominium, tightly holding his handgun pointed downward. The streetlamps overhead offered some lighting on an otherwise dark night, yet even they were weak in conquering the shadows, and Crocker could easily remain in blackness. Cars of various designs were parked on the side of the road, and once past the sidewalk there was only a narrow patch of green grass before he reached the concrete edifice.

Edging around one of the cars, Crocker stepped on the sidewalk and slowly made his way forward to the soft greenery. The shrieking sound of fracturing glass to his left caught Crocker's attention, and he braced himself with an upraised gun as an entire pane of glass on the ground floor of the condominium utterly shattered. Bright flashes of white erupted from the darkness, along with the unmistakable sound of automatic weapon fire, and instantly Crocker lunged backward, heaving himself over the hood of the nearest car. He slid across the vehicle and slammed into the concrete beneath, tucking himself into a roll and coming up with his back against the car door.

Bullets tore into the machine, showering heated fragments of glass and metal through the air, much of it raining down atop Crocker. One of the tires on the passenger side of the car burst apart and air whooshed out from the holes, lowering the vehicle slightly. Crocker instinctively held his arms up over his head, attempting to shield his face from the carnage, though what true protection the move offered was suspect at best.

Abruptly the gunfire stopped, and ever so slowly Crocker lifted his arms and began to raise his head, even as painfully loud bells continued to wail inside his skull and eardrums. The night was once again quiet for the moment.

"Deadshot?" Crocker shouted from behind the car. "Is that you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry to disappoint you," a woman's voice called back. "Deadshot's doing an errand elsewhere. So I'm all you got."

Crocker crawled forward on his hands and knees, ignoring the pain brought on as tiny bits of glass pierced his skin, and peaked out around the hood. A blonde woman leapt out through the open window, crunching softly in the grass. Black armour with various patches of blood red decorated her torso and parts of her limbs, while a skintight black material extended out from underneath the armour over her arms and legs. Her two hands held in them an MP5 submachine gun, the barrel of which was pointed directly at the car Crocker crouched behind.

"I picked up this lovely gun after I blew away some tactical officer. Hey, maybe you were even friends with him."

"You murdering bitch!" Crocker screamed, lifting himself above the hood and preparing to discharge from his own handgun.

Vala Jast spewed metal toward him, forcing Crocker to drop to the ground again before he could so much as fire a single round. "Now, now," Vala said sardonically. "Let's have none of that."

----------

The chilling quiet unnerved him, leaving Cyborg to dread each and every step he took. His pace had been tremendously quick at first, and he had bounded up several flights of stairs in an almost reckless fashion, before his weariness had gotten the better of him. Though Cyborg now crept forward with a high degree of caution in his step, he was already on the seventh floor.

A sudden hail of gunfire immediately dropped Cyborg to the floor, and he swivelled his sonic cannon around searching for the source of the attack. After a frantic few seconds he fast realized the shots were coming from quite a distance away, which meant someone else—one of his friends, his allies—was being targeted. Cyborg sprinted to a nearby window, hoping it was in the direction of the firefight. Given the manner in which echoes sometimes spread outward, it could occasionally be difficult to locate the original point.

Upon reaching a window, Cyborg knew the shots were coming from outside and well below him. He punched through the glass and peered downward, ominously leaning forward and beyond the protection of the building. The gunfire ceased for several long seconds and then flared up again, and Cyborg could see flashes of light emerging from the barrel of a submachine gun at street level. Bringing his enhanced optics online, Cyborg quickly identified Crocker behind a brown sedan, and Vala Jast close by.

Pointing his primary weapon toward her, brilliant bright blue shot downward and exploded against the sidewalk a mere foot from the inimical woman.

----------

A vibrant flash of azure erupted in front of Crocker's face, slamming into the ground directly beside Vala and showering her with debris. She scrambled to the side as another blast rocketed against the concrete she had occupied a heartbeat prior. Crocker whipped his handgun over the top of the car's hood and squeezed the trigger hard, puncturing the air with his own bullets.

Vala hurtled backward and dived behind a pile of bricks, but not before she had taken one of Crocker's shots in the upper portion of her right chest. The blow struck her armour, absorbing most of its intensity, yet the impact still knocked the wind out of her. Vala crouched against the bricks and bit her lip to numb the burning sensation close to her shoulder.

----------

Cyborg watched Vala run full tilt away from his aerial barrage, and with his cannon he tracked her movement, holding fire in anticipation of the perfect shot. Buckling pain erupted in Cyborg's left leg as something slammed into the back of his knee, crippling his reaction for a moment. Two titanic metal hands fiercely grabbed hold of his left arm just below the elbow and yanked him backward, swinging his entire body around and lifting him off the floor. Cyborg flew through the air and his back struck hard against a steel girder that extended from the floor to the ceiling, rattling it mightily.

He collapsed to his knees and let his head hang low, feigning the appearance of defeat. Dashan charged toward him without any semblance of caution, and bellowing all the while, but at the last moment Cyborg pounced upward and drove his fist into the behemoth's chin. Dashan immediately lost his footing and tumbled to the floor, crashing through a section of drywall, while Cyborg rushed after him, easily breaking through the flimsy dividing wall and coating himself in a fine white powder in the process.

Dashan lashed out with his boot as he flipped back to his feet, narrowly missing his opponent's waist, and then hammered his fist against Cyborg's face. Swiping with his own fist, Cyborg repeatedly hammered his knuckles into Dashan's chest and steadily pushed the monstrosity back, thunderous clangs of ringing metal echoing all the while. Ignoring the aggressive fury against him, Dashan wailed upon Cyborg and their fists narrowly crossed paths. The metal juggernauts exchanged blow after blow, and so furious were the attacks that sparks flashed off their frames.

Cyborg back peddled as a result of a particularly nasty bout from Dashan, and while steadying himself his right hand flashed open, releasing a maelstrom of magnificent blue. Too close for avoidance, Dashan twisted himself partially, taking a slightly deflected shot off the side of his chest. Though its potency was greatly reduced by his evasive action, he was nonetheless thrust backward and landed fiercely on his back. He scrambled and rolled as a second discharge whizzed directly above him, and Dashan pounced back to his feet and screamed toward Cyborg, driving his shoulder into the Titan and surging forward.

His feet no longer touching the floor, Cyborg pounded his hands against Dashan's arms, trying to loose them from around his torso. Despite the barrage Dashan continued to sprint, utterly flattening two additional sections of drywall as the pair came ever closer to the edge of the building. Finally they were there, crashing through the thick window and showering splinters of glass outward. Still refusing to release his arms from around Cyborg, they fell downward through the night air as one mass, the winds whipping up around them. Their descent was brief and ended as they erupted through the windows of the neighbouring building several floors lower, and they smashed through rows of chairs and desks, twisting and spinning erratically and snapping apart the wooden furniture and computers, their anguished and raging cries very nearly overpowered by the hissing of severing cords and surges of electrical sparks.

----------

Lieutenant Clancey swivelled around on his heels upon hearing his name emerge from the nearby radio.

"Clancey here," he said into it, glancing behind him to see several other tactical officers had converged near the unmarked black van, listening intently for the possibility of additional orders. His officers had grown restless after too many hours at the prison.

"This is Commissioner Miller," came the reply. "Intense weapon fire has been spotted in the Financial Sector at the incomplete Skylight Tower condominium. The first officer on the scene reported seeing discharges from Titan weaponry and I've ordered him to hold back until your team arrives."

"Yes, sir," Clancey said. "We can be there within ten minutes."

"Take no chances," Miller added. "Bring down anyone on the scene who doesn't surrender."

"Yes, sir. Clancey out."

Lieutenant Clancey snapped the radio back in place and turned around. "Czendovic, call the rest of the team back. We're leaving immediately."

----------

The eruptions and reverberations of intense combat echoed into Beast Boy's ears. Distant gunfire, shattering brick and explosions permeated the air, filling him with a sense of hope. The horrible and blinding pain coating every inch of his body notwithstanding, he could finally experience optimism. Perhaps it was his friends. Perhaps soon he would no longer be alone.

"Help!" he shouted through parched lips, only vaguely aware that it was tremendously likely he could not be heard. "I'm in here!"

Blistering torment swelled in his throat, as Beast Boy had not received even the faintest sip of liquid in more than a day. Each word was agony to speak.

"Help!"

----------

The sense that he was no longer alone punctured Robin's mind. He had traversed the stairwell for some time, reaching the thirteenth floor without incident, and had heard sporadic weapon fire a short while before. Shadows had played across every wall during his ascent, occasionally even confusing and blurring his mind, but it was only now that he could feel true darkness in the alcoves and recesses of the building. Only the sparsest of light hung in the air from the moon, and no artificial lighting was present, leaving this floor very nearly devoid of illumination.

A lone voice drifted through the corridors, beckoning him to leave the stairwell behind and enter deeper into the edifice. "I am pleased you came this way. Pleased that it will be I who challenges you."

"Gemini," Robin said coldly. She remained hidden among the half completed walls and dividers, and there was enough open space that her words could travel a great distance, making it impossible to distinguish her location from auditory clues. Robin would have to be careful in order to prevent ambush, especially given the fact that it was highly likely she already knew his whereabouts.

"You are an impressive adversary," she said calmly. "Forging through an entire prison of desperate and contemptible murderers was alone an impressive feat. Then you survived the explosion that would have easily killed most other individuals. But most impressive of all is how you seem to ignore the deaths that you have caused. There is much blood on your hands tonight, but it is of little concern to you. You are as coldly efficient as I am."

"I'm nothing like you," Robin snapped, shifting stealthily through the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gemini while she continued to talk. "I haven't forgotten them, and I haven't ignored them. I'm able to push them from my mind briefly, so that I can bring justice on those responsible. And right now I have the woman responsible for all those deaths. And I _will_ make you pay."

"It will be of little consequence, for all your friends will fall tonight. Even as I speak to you now they are losing the fight. And—as you will soon discover for yourself—you will fare no better."

"I bested your mother," Robin countered.

"Yes," Gemini replied, her voice no more than a hushed whisper. "And for that you will suffer!"

The whoosh of something tearing through the air caught Robin's ear, but not quickly enough for him to duck below the assault, and Gemini's greatly outstretched arm wailed against his chest, tossing him backward into a section of drywall. The structure held its form as he struck it, only slightly denting the plaster. Robin dropped to his knees and frantically searched the vicinity, but it was impossible to locate Gemini amid the darkness.

Slowly he climbed to his feet, fists already elevated, eyes scanning the perimeter. "Why fight in the shadows?" Robin called out. "If you're so sure of yourself then face me." It was a familiar tactic practiced by most heroes—question your opponent's skill and thereby incite them to lose control, and with it whatever advantage they hold.

Gemini barked a laugh. "You will not goad me. Keep your simple tactics for lesser adversaries."

Pain hammered against Robin's left side as another strike from Gemini made contact, thrusting him once more to the drywall. A second attack lunged outward from the shadows, giving Robin the precious second required to dodge it sideways. Gemini's fist punctured the drywall easily and immediately whipped away in retraction. Robin loosed a birdarang from his belt, not bothering to cleanly find his target, but simply thrusting it in the direction that Gemini's arm had appeared. The sound of his projectile clanging harmlessly against a steel girder frustrated Robin immensely, and quickly he mentally took inventory of the weapons he still possessed. Several would prove to be effective against Gemini, but not if he was unable to decipher at least her general location. And he held too few armaments to waste any in a fruitless attempt.

"How does it feel knowing that you brought about Speedy's death?" she asked calmly.

Robin slipped around a segment of wall, finding himself in what might eventually be large enough to be a living room. He struggled mightily to not listen to her words, to not let them penetrate his mind. Robin's body threatened to give in to the torment, to collapse on him. If his mind fell to the onslaught as well, he would never survive.

"It was on your orders that he followed you to the prison, yes?" Gemini continued. "And I can most certainly assume you instructed him to pursue Deadshot."

Vicious flashes of pain surged through Robin's chest and he futilely clutched at his ribcage, biting down hard with his teeth in a vain attempt to quell the pangs.

"Speedy would surely be among the living had you not handed him over to Deadshot. But instead you brought about his demise."

Robin lurched forward, breathing heavily. He could not long continue this contest with Gemini. It would have to be brought to a close, and swiftly, if he were to maintain any level of strength. Quietly he flicked open the compartments on his belt.

----------

Kid Flash's mind whirled and raced, at a rate faster than even he could travel. Bodies swarmed at him in droves, pounding against every inch of his frame, tossing and turning him around. The attackers—all of them covered from head to toe in black clothing, none of their faces visible—had simply materialized before him, rushing outward from the stairwells, from behind girders and segments of wall. They moved fast, not nearly as fast as he could, but with their extreme multitude they did not have to reach the speed of light to overwhelm him.

Fists rocked his head to the side, and he recovered quickly, sidestepping several of them and lashing back, knocking three out of the fight. Narrow gaps presented themselves in all directions, and rapidly he pushed through, hammering faces and chests as he went, even as the strikes continued to rain upon him. Constantly his speed was reduced drastically as hands grabbed at him and boots sought to tangle his legs. He danced among the onslaught, periodically receiving further assaults upon his person, but avoided a far greater number. For each face that cracked under his barrage, several more would appear. Never had he fought this many opponents at once, and his energy, his resolve, was gradually fading.

Though he could never know it, Phobia watched with delight from across the floor, hidden not only by shadows but also by the corrupting nature of her visions. He was physically exerting himself at a dangerous rate, but even more damaging was the beating that his mind was receiving. Occupied as he was, there was no possibility of him achieving the time necessary to search for Jinx, much less locate her. Even if he could manage it, Phobia was quite certain he did not even know what had become of her, and that she was present in this very building. Overall, Phobia was quite content to let Kid Flash slowly cripple himself in a fight that was not even real.

----------

Smouldering debris of wood and electrical devices crumpled under the weight of Cyborg and Dashan, who continued to pound away at each other. Both combatants twisted and shuddered amid the blows, and neither showed any signs of giving in to fatigue or defeat. Cyborg's systems jolted periodically from any particularly well placed strikes from Dashan—jolts that his interior would only be capable of withstanding for a short while longer. And he possessed no understanding of Dashan's interior, or even if the juggernaut had one.

A warning light flashed within Cyborg's vision, indicating his systems would not remain active for much longer. Shrugging off several more punches, Cyborg wildly kicked several large chunks of broken office furniture upward, spraying Dashan's vision and hoping to temporarily blind him. The fragments and splinters splashed against his face, causing no harm, but the brief display gave Cyborg the necessary time to pull himself backward. For his sonic cannon to be effective, distance was required—otherwise Dashan would be far too close for a successful hit to be possible.

As the final bits of debris cleared from Dashan's eyes, Cyborg's hand peeled back, revealing a circular azure opening. Dashan had only the necessary space of time to widen his eyes in shock before an overwhelming blast pummelled into his chest, all of the remaining energy within Cyborg's body channelled into the single shot. Residual blue spirals bounced off his frame, while the bulk of the discharge deluged over him and drove Dashan through the air. His body erupted through the glass behind him and immediately he arched and drifted for a brief period before plummeting to the ground.

Cyborg steadied himself and took several long breaths, the warning lights still flashing. Closing down his cannon, he carefully walked to the edge of the floor and peered out, seeing Dashan's unmoving body lying on the roadway. For now, Cyborg's battle was finished, and he would quickly need to return to the others.

----------

Her vision was blurry when Raven opened her eyes, obstructed by the swirling smoke that covered the rooftop. Climbing to her feet, she rubbed the side of her head and blinked several times. Finally she could see without difficulty, and through the grey mist caught sight of Jinx stumbling forward.

"Why?" Raven demanded. "Why do this?"

"_You killed him!"_ she screamed.

Despite the pangs of combat, Raven could sense utter conviction in Jinx's words, but her own mind remained filled only with rage, directed at the girl who had betrayed their trust. Raven did not care for Jinx's emotions—she sought only to make her suffer.

The two girls charged toward the centre of the roof, discharging streams of pink and white while arching and twisting themselves to avoid the other's assaults. Within seconds they were upon each other, wildly swinging fists and no longer maintaining any composure. Each was too filled with hatred for her foe, and lashed out in the appropriate fashion.

Pink and white fire swirled together, and both combatants' fists struck at precisely the same moment, thrusting the magnificent energy downward. The potent force burst against the concrete roof, practically evaporating much of the material under the intense heat and fracturing the structure itself. Jinx and Raven cried out in shock and tumbled forward as the roof beneath their feet collapsed inward, spraying them with brick and mortar and forcing them ever downward. Level after level of the edifice cracked and ripped apart, and the two girls fought to avoid falling rubble, occasionally still viciously swiping at the other. A fierce wind howled in their eyes and ears, and both girls choked on the particles of dust and plaster swarming around them.

Further sections of ceiling caved in as colossal bricks pounded downward under the force of gravity, and Raven and Jinx constantly slammed against flooring, only to once more have it fragment apart and toss them lower. Finally their limp bodies crashed against flat concrete, and to their relief the level held itself intact. Bits of mortar and brick, immense segments of concrete, entire sections of flooring and drywall, and bent and twisted steel girders all lay scattered about, covering the entire floor of the building.

----------

All around him the building rumbled and shuddered dangerously, and Kid Flash zipped away from half a dozen other pursuers and slid to a halt close to the edge of the floor. The tremors grew more and more intense, and faint cracks spread across the surface of the ceiling and several of the massive concrete pillars. With a deafening roar of thunder the centre of the ceiling exploded, showering brick and debris downward with chaotic thuds and crashes. Kid Flash threw up his hand to shield his face from the onrush of dust, and faintly through the cloud he caught sight of two individuals slamming into the floor—one dressed in purples and pinks, and the other in pure white.

----------

Phobia careened to the side as the first brick hammered against the floor directly to her left, quickly pushing off a concrete pillar and using the momentum to drive herself farther. Her connection with Kid Flash flickered ever so slightly, a lapse that would be all but imperceptible to him, and she frantically held onto his mind while deftly dodging the fragmentation of the ceiling.

Unknown to her, a crack directly above her head snaked ever larger, and as one particularly monstrous section of concrete struck the ground nearby and released an outward spiralling shockwave, a much smaller piece of brick popped out from beyond the crack. It rotated end over end and pounded into Phobia directly where her spine met her skull, forcing her to silently crumple to the ground and severing the mental hold she had on Kid Flash's mind.

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Raven's fingers slid forward, brushing off thick plaster and chalky dust. Her eyes stung painfully, and the interior of her entire mouth felt as if it were coated with a fine sand. Abruptly remembering the carnage with Jinx, she struggled to climb back to her feet, scanning her immediate surroundings for signs that she may be near.

As the dust cloud settled, Raven spotted the smaller girl coughing and climbing to one knee. Jinx glanced upward just as Raven unleashed a billowing cascade of white that roared toward her and pummelled into her chest, knocking her backward.

"_No!"_ Kid Flash screamed, vanishing into a distorted blur that coursed directly at Raven. Seeing his approach too late, Raven feebly raised her arms in defence before both his fists barrelled into her, fiercely driving her to the floor.

One of his hands was already wrapped around Raven's throat when she landed, the other clenched and poised menacingly above her face.

"You don't understand!" she croaked. "Jinx betrayed us!"

"She would never—"

"Jinx sided with the Brotherhood!" Raven shouted, feeling the fingers around her throat loosen a fraction. "She was part of the ambush!"

"I can't believe it," Kid Flash began, turning his head to look over where Jinx had been struck. "I won't."

As the words left his mouth Jinx stepped forward from beyond a pillar, her eyes staring forward incredulously.

"Flash?" Jinx asked. She stumbled forward, only just barely managing to maintain her balance, and her eyes hung wide open. There was a blank stare spread across her face, and she appeared even more pale than normal. "You're alive?"

"Jinx!" Kid Flash said happily, beginning to climb off Raven.

"But I, I thought…you were supposed to, to be…" she stammered, having great difficulty finding the correct words.

A shadow weaved through the darkness behind her and Jinx's body unexpectedly spasmed and arched forward, her mouth lifelessly hanging open, the very tip of a now reddened blade protruding from her stomach. A thin line of crimson trickled out from Jinx's lips and a faint whisper escaped her throat. Phobia, a wicked smile dancing from cheek to cheek, appeared over Jinx's shoulder, her left hand clenching the dagger that had penetrated the small girl's flesh.

"And now it seems my deception is at an end," she remarked dryly. "A pity, for I had still hoped to—"

Raven's right hand shot forward, releasing a slender white streak of energy that hurtled into Phobia's face, burning the skin and bones and whipping her away from Jinx. The former Titan, no longer held upright, collapsed in a small heap, while Phobia convulsed and shook on her back, frantically grabbing at her face.

Kid Flash and Raven arrived at Jinx's side in a heartbeat, quickly taking hold of her. Slowly and with extreme care Raven withdrew the blade and let it fall clattering to the ground. Blood spurted outward from the nasty wound on Jinx's back and Raven quickly ripped part of her clothing, allowing her entire palm to make direct contact with the fallen girl's skin.

Raven took a deep breath and exhaled, and Kid Flash watched in astonishment as a pale blue haze formed over Jinx's back, gently stirring in a circular motion as if it were a fluid. Blood no longer streaked downward across her flesh, and when Raven removed her hand the wound had encrusted over partially, sealing it.

"That's the best I can do right now," she said quickly. "I'll have to administer further treatments soon, but Jinx will live."

"Thank you," Kid Flash said, carefully cradling Jinx in his arms.

Raven leaned back on her knees and glanced over to her right. Phobia had altogether ceased movement, her face no more than a blackened mess. Raven had not meant to kill the heinous woman, but part of her—a part that frightened Raven—had known the deed had to be done.

"Is she…" Kid Flash began to say.

"Yes," Raven whispered. "She's dead."

The last vestiges of dust settled to the floor, and the room fell silent. Abruptly Raven's head snapped to the side, a startled look on her face that quickly transformed to a penetrating gaze.

"What is it?" Kid Flash asked.

"It's Robin," Raven answered, leaping to her feet. "I can feel him in pain. There's nothing but hatred in his mind."

Before Kid Flash could respond, a whirling white disk appeared beneath Raven's feet and she streaked downward, leaving him alone to comfort a still unconscious Jinx.

----------

Still consumed by darkness, Robin let two small projectiles slid into his hands and listened for the telltale sound of movement from Gemini. He would not need to hit her directly for the strike to be effective, nor would it even need to be tremendously accurate. Only the general vicinity was required.

As if on cue an expanded limb swept outward from beyond a pillar and smashed into a fragment of drywall as Robin lunged beneath it. He steadied his balance, allowed his aim to shift slightly in anticipation of Gemini's movements, and threw the disk forward at a low trajectory. It skipped across the ground once near to the spot Gemini had occupied seconds before, and then exploded brilliantly. Lacking smoke or a powerful shockwave, the device spread only fire, and an incandescent wall of it surged outward in all directions. Flames arched and danced over the floor, ceiling and pillars, fuelled by the sticky fluid contained within the weapon.

Gemini screamed horrifically, wailing amid the scorching inferno. Robin crept closer to her, watching her writhe and shake in agony, the intense heat no longer allowing her to maintain her form. Pulpy black and blue splashes fell from her body, collecting in a disgusting pool beneath her.

Robin gently touched his chest and back peddled a step, the blistering heat sending sharp pain across his wound. He grimaced heavily, but maintained a façade of control. "I can end this," he said to Gemini. "Make all the pain go away. All you have to do is surrender."

Gemini screeched furiously in response, futilely attempting to lash out with her arms toward Robin. She struggled to claw herself forward across the ground, leaving a long streak of melting mass behind her. Finally she limped outward beyond the flames, tossing herself to the ground and breathing heavily.

"Surrender yourself to me," he said again. "Once the fire disappears and you cool down, you'll be able to reconstitute your body. But for now you're in no position to refuse."

Slowly she lifted her head, bits of flesh dripping from her face.

"Give in, and I promise you that I'll—"

Discharging handguns overpowered the sound of his voice, and instinctively Robin twisted his body in a backward arch and cart wheeled away. Bullets streaked through the now empty space above Gemini, harmlessly piercing the windows beyond and flying out into the night air.

Robin skidded to a halt and caught sight of Deadshot stepping outward from the stairwell, brandishing his double handguns. White hot flashes sparked outward from the barrels toward Robin, without any words having been exchanged between the two combatants. Dropping to the ground and rolling onto the other side of a concrete pillar, Robin heard the all too familiar sound of bullets coursing far too closely to his ears. Bits of the concrete burst apart upon impacts from the steel, and Robin leapt upward and sprinted through a doorway beyond a completed section of wall.

Backing up against the wall, Robin slowly crept along it, listening carefully for Deadshot. The nearby flames offered much greater lighting to the room, but still there were plenty of shadows on the side of the wall he now found himself. Careful to maintain silence, he withdrew a birdarang from his belt and waited, trusting to his other senses.

A gentle vibration ran up his legs, distracting Robin slightly. Immediately the wall began to sway, lightly at first but quickly building in intensity. Cracks and small pieces of brick were shaken free from the ceiling and fell to the floor. Robin searched for a nearby source, but nothing seemed to be the cause of it, and then suddenly a roaring crash filled the air and then entire building shook, knocking him off balance. He heard Deadshot grunting and the sound of loud footsteps, followed by the unmistakeable pounding of large segments of concrete being driven into the floor.

A titanic explosion of some kind had clearly been at the epicentre of the quake, Robin realized as he once more held his balance. Acting on a hunch, he looked back out through the doorway to the other side of the room, and could see that all the windows had been shattered, with chunks of debris coating the floor. In the middle lay Deadshot, freeing himself from tumbling rocks that had brought him down. Robin rushed forward, unleashing his birdarang as the assassin saw him and raised his right handgun to fire. The projectile slammed into the handgun, sending it careening out of Deadshot's hands, and before he could lift the gun held within his left hand Robin wildly thrust his boot outward, whipping Deadshot's arm into an outward loop.

Deadshot surged upward off the ground, stepping back and attempting to point the handgun that he still clutched at Robin. The Titan moved faster, stepping forward to bring himself closer and sending out his right hand to block the movement of Deadshot's arm. He caught the assassin's arm at the wrist and yanked it in the opposite direction, twisting the handgun out from his grasp and forcing Deadshot precariously off balance. Robin uplifted his right leg and drove it into Deadshot's knee, hearing him scream in pain from beneath the rounded silver helmet that covered his face.

Releasing his hold on Deadshot's wrist, Robin smashed his elbow directly into his face, not causing much distress against the protection the helmet offered, but nonetheless knocking him backward and onto the ground. Deadshot squirmed on the ground and frantically ripped off the silver helmet, taking a massive gulp of air once it was off. His hair was dishevelled, his face covered in sweat, and he panted heavily. Looking upward from his back, he could see Robin standing directly above him, his right arm holding one of Deadshot's handguns. The barrel was pointed at his face, and Robin's grip did not waver. Illumination from slowly dying fire cast a silhouette around his frame, the orange glow reflecting off his uniform.

For a long time neither man uttered a word. Finally Robin broke the silence, tensely stating, "I should kill you where you lay."

Deadshot pushed himself backward on his palms, his eyes never losing sight of the glinting steel held toward him. "You'd never do that. You couldn't."

"And why the hell not? The world would be a better place with you buried six feet under ground."

"Heroes don't do that," Deadshot said quickly, his normally composed and calm voice taking on the edge of desperation. "Heroes never—"

"_You killed Speedy!"_ Robin screamed, jabbing the handgun several inches closer. _"And you killed Frances! You deserve nothing less!"_

"Maybe not," Deadshot responded, his pupils quivering almost imperceptibly. "But you still can't do it."

Robin's finger pulled back on the trigger a hairsbreadth. "I'm far past caring what heroes are supposed to do."

"_Don't!"_

Robin whipped his head to the side to see bright white pierce the darkness and form upward from the ground. Raven slowly took a step forward, holding out one of her hands in a calming manner. "Don't do this, Robin," she said. "Don't bring yourself down to that level."

His eyes once again fixated on Deadshot, Robin replied, "I don't care anymore. I just don't care. Deadshot's taken too many lives. No one will mourn him."

"You're probably right," Raven said in as soothing a voice as she could manage. "But how do you think the city will look at you?" Part of those words stung Raven's own mind, already afraid of what the opinion toward her would be when word got out that she had been responsible for Phobia's demise. But the incidents were different—she acted to protect Jinx, and Phobia had not been forced to submit as Deadshot had.

"I have to make him pay for his crimes."

"Not like this," Raven remarked. "This isn't justice. It's an execution."

"You can't stop me."

"I'm not going to try. You have to make the conscious decision to not give in. Remember Robin, the hardest thing you'll ever have to do is what's right. You told me that."

Robin kept his position for several long moments, the deadly barrel still aimed at the assassin's face. The time passed agonizingly slow for Raven, as frantic thoughts hurtled through her mind, leaving her to wonder if Robin would truly carry out the deed. She knew him better than anyone, and she believed in him. Raven held her breath.

Finally his eyes drifted upward to stare out the gaping sides of the building where glass had once been. Taking one final moment to himself, Robin tossed the gun to the side and stumbled backward. He reached up and rubbed the side of his head, powerful emotions boiling over within him.

Deadshot exhaled sharply, his muscles relaxing themselves. Carefully he staggered to his feet, still not confident enough to take his eyes away from Robin.

"I know it wasn't easy," Raven said. "But you did the right thing."

"For a minute there I actually thought you were going to off me," Deadshot uttered. "You really had that look on your face of a man who—"

Vibrant yellow electrical surges coursed over his body, snaking and twisting outward from his back, and Deadshot's limbs released fierce spasms. The acrid smell of smoke and burnt flesh permeated the air as further golden flashes continued to sparkle and erupt, silhouetting him in a terrifying display. Signs of life absent from his face, Deadshot's mangled body collapsed and revealed a charred hole in the middle of back, from which thin wisps of smoke curled upward.

Standing just at the edge of the building, her curved stingers pointed directly forward and emitting small sparks of electricity, her face contorted in rage, stood Bumblebee. Only once the last traces of surging current vanished from Deadshot's limp corpse did she carefully affix her stingers back to her belt.

Raven and Robin stood motionless, neither finding the voice necessary to speak words. To Raven's eyes the vision in front of her was horrific, utterly negating the effort that had been required to prevent Robin from doing the unthinkable. And yet it had happened nonetheless, even with Raven standing near and watching over Deadshot. Despite the best of intentions, the noblest goals, Raven played a role in the deaths of two individuals. She had failed as a hero, but even more pressing was the knowledge that she had failed herself.

----------

Softly at first, Kid Flash could hear calls for help, and belatedly realized the voice was drifting downward through the now massive hole in the ceiling above his head. Careful not to apply undue pressure to her wound, he hoisted Jinx onto his shoulder and whisked off, travelling rapidly up the stairwell and instantaneously approaching the source of the pleas.

"Beast Boy!" Kid Flash exclaimed, stopping directly in front of the small cage that held him. He sat on his knees, his hands bound, his uniform clinging to a sweaty frame, a feeling of suffering and desperation decorating his face.

Putting Jinx onto the ground, Kid Flash made short work of the bars helming Beast Boy in and stepped inside, gently placing his hand on the chameleon's shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Just get that thing off my back," Beast Boy hoarsely whispered.

Kid Flash looked behind Beast Boy and reached out to the small circular device attached to him. Though held firmly in place, it came off with a small amount of effort, releasing tiny sparks as it did so. Much to Kid Flash's surprise, Beast Boy bellowed furiously and surged upward into the form of a mighty gorilla. As his limbs erupted outward with the expansion of muscles, the bonds upon his hands split open and fell clattering to the floor. Still in the form of a primate, Beast Boy stretched in a towering manner, nearly consuming all the room in the already cramped cell.

Immediately he morphed back to his normal form and smiled weakly. "Thanks. Is Jinx going to be okay?"

"She was hurt pretty bad, but Raven patched her up and says she'll be fine."

Beast Boy groggily rubbed his temple. "Is everyone else here? What's happened?"

Kid Flash placed Jinx on his shoulder again and cocked his head toward the stairwell. "Come on," he said. "There'll be time for catching up later."

----------

Blazing sirens caught hold of Crocker's attention, and almost before he could react two unmarked black vans screeched to a halt directly behind him on the roadway, followed closely by half a dozen squad cars. Tactical officers roared out from the vans, fanning out in a circular fashion and pointing their weapons toward him and Vala, finally ending the standoff that had existed between the two for a gut wrenchingly long time.

"Get on the ground!" one of them shouted, holding his MP5 directly at Crocker.

He threw up his arms in a submissive gesture and let the handgun fall from his grasp. "Whoa, easy now. I'm—"

"_I said get your ass on the ground!"_

Crocker carefully lowered himself to the ground and lay on his stomach, only partially aware that several officers were aggressively pushing an uncooperative Vala down and binding her hands. The bright lights flashing before his eyes, the dark shadows of officers pacing in and around, shouting at him and Vala—all of it served to disorient Crocker slightly.

Cold metal clamped down on his wrists, held tightly in place behind his back. Two hands grabbed hold of his forearms and lifted him back to his feet. Crocker lowered his head, realizing that his actions alongside the Titans had been discovered. In the eyes of its political leaders, he was an enemy of the city, no more than a mere criminal. Crocker only wished that the Titans had been successful, and had brought justice to the real criminals.

"Get those damn things off him!" someone shouted over the crowd of officers.

Crocker turned to see Lieutenant Fischer shoving his way through, pointing down at the handcuffs.

"That's Detective Crocker," Fischer assured the two tactical officers. "Come on, get those cuffs off."

"Yes, sir," one of the officers said, nodding. He unclipped Crocker's hands and immediately left to approach the pair that were escorting Vala to the waiting police van.

"Sorry about the mix up," Fischer assured Crocker. "Hard to tell who's who when there's a firefight on the side of the road."

"Don't worry about it," Crocker replied, rubbing his wrists.

"How'd you end up here?" Fischer asked.

"I just happened to be close enough to hear the fighting," Crocker quickly lied. "And when I got closer I came under fire from her." He pointed to Vala just as she was being pushed into the back of a van. "It took a while to get everyone else here."

"Miller wanted to wait until Clancey's team could be brought in to secure the building. Any idea what's going on inside?"

Crocker shook his head. "None. I've just heard some pretty intense fighting."

"Those Goddamned Titans."

"Don't be so quick to blame them," Crocker retorted. "The Brotherhood began this whole mess."

"Whatever. You can try to convince Miller of that."

"So what happened to you?" Crocker asked, hoping to discover if his role in everything remained unknown to the police department. "I was following your reports during the chase with Cyborg, but then I lost contact."

"I had Cyborg in my sights," Fischer said. "But then I was blindsided."

"By whom?"

Fischer shook his head. "I have no idea. Didn't get a good look at his face. But judging from the speed of it, I'd bet it was one of the Titans."

Crocker found it difficult to suppress the smile. "Probably was," he said quietly.

From above his head, two JCPD helicopters swooped downward from the sky, flashing their powerful lights into the condominium. Silently Crocker hoped the Titans had achieved victory and were able to slip out without notice. With Clancey's team climbing the stairs and the aerial units illuminating the entire building, the Titans would have to act quickly to escape.

Now that he had been assured his betrayal would remain hidden, Crocker vowed to do all he could from the inside of the JCPD to assist the Titans. Yes, he would remain a staunch ally at a time when they sorely needed one.

----------

And sadly my story is almost at an end. There'll be one more chapter that wraps most of this up, and it'll be up in a week's time.


	12. A Titan's Farewell

With a soft flicker the last of the flames vanished, and Robin was only vaguely aware of it, still in shock amid the carnage that Bumblebee had unleashed.

"It had to be done," she said calmly.

"No, it didn't," Raven spat back. "He was beaten, you didn't have—"

"I don't care what you say. Deadshot didn't deserve to live."

Raven took a moment to steady her mind. She could feel the pure hatred locked within Bumblebee. There was no trace of remorse, no vestige of guilt, over her attack. The cheerful, optimistic, generous and fair girl that had once existed clearly had vanished alongside Speedy. In its place, only a bare shell of her former self remained. Probing the other girl's thoughts, Raven could not feel any emotions separate from rage. She had indeed changed, and Raven was unsure how to approach the situation.

"No!" Robin shouted, drowning out Raven's concentration.

She turned to see Robin standing where the flames had once stood, frantically looking around. "What is it?" she asked.

"Gemini's gone," Robin answered weakly. "There's nothing left of her." He sank his face into his hands for a moment and then looked upward. "Damn it!"

"We'll find her," Raven said, hoping to steady Robin. "The most important thing is that we've dismantled the New Brotherhood. There's little she can do right now."

Robin turned to answer, but he seemed to stumble on his feet, swaying briefly from side to side, his face twisted in a look of confusion and pain.

"Are you okay?" Raven asked, stepping toward him.

He groaned in agony and clutched his ribcage, staggering forward in a doubled over position. His breathing quickly deteriorated, leaving him gasping for air. Raven leapt to his side, but not before he crumpled to the ground.

"What happened to him?" Bumblebee asked.

"I don't know," Raven responded, checking his vital signs.

Amid the whirring sound of helicopter blades, floodlights burst into the building, blinding the two girls. Even above the tempest of swirling air and the roar of its rotor, a booming voice echoed. "This is the JCPD. Do not move! We have the building surrounded and sealed. Attempt to evade us and you will be fired upon."

Despite the chaos, Raven could feel the building filling with additional bodies. A tactical response team, no doubt. It would not be long before the police were upon them. She fought hard to distinguish identities, to separate the minds of enemies from those of friends, and amid the noise and elevated emotions of every individual it was a daunting task. Though only a flicker, she could feel a small group of allies several floors above her, back toward the carnage of her fight with Jinx.

"Grab his arm!" Raven shouted to Bumblebee, already taking hold of one of Robin's biceps as Bumblebee quickly understood and firmly grabbed the other.

A steady stream of machinegun fire splashed toward them from the helicopter's direction as Raven and Bumblebee lifted upward in flight and surged away from the spotlight and into an area of the floor still covered in darkness. Bullets ripped through plaster and brick, but the concentrated volley was useless and frantically the search light scanned the surrounding area, seeking to again locate the vigilantes. Unbeknownst to the officers aboard, it would turn out to be a fruitless search, as Raven and Bumblebee had vanished upward through the ceiling.

----------

A hazy pinprick of white light caught Kid Flash's attention, and abruptly he stopped and looked to his right, closely followed by a slow moving Beast Boy. Sure enough a bright circle had indeed appeared—though a much larger one than he had grown accustomed to seeing—and Raven, Bumblebee and Robin flew outward from it.

"Beast Boy!" Raven said with genuine happiness. "You're okay!"

"Bumblebee?" Kid Flash asked. "What are you…?" his voice trailed off as he noticed an unconscious Robin in tow. "Is he alright?"

"Time for all that later," Raven said quickly. "JCPD are combing the building, and we need to get out."

"Where's Starfire?" Beast Boy asked.

"Not here," Raven answered. "But near as we can tell she's safe. Has anyone seen Cyborg?"

Kid Flash shook his head. "Not since we entered the building."

Raven shifted her hold on Robin's limp body slightly and reached into her belt, immediately cursing when she saw her communicator was burned beyond repair. She again adjusted Robin, turning him toward Bumblebee so Raven could access the back of Robin's belt, and snatched up his communicator. Though scratched and missing flecks of paint, it came to life when she opened it. Several long seconds passed, Raven's anxiety increasing rapidly as the screen remained a fuzzy grey. "Come on," she mumbled.

Finally Cyborg's face appeared on the other end. Not giving him the time to speak first, Raven quickly said, "Are you okay?"

"Good enough," he replied. "Are you with anyone?"

"I've got everyone else with me. You need to get out of the building fast, the JCPD—"

"I know," he interrupted. "I see them. But don't worry, I'm in the neighbouring building, which they haven't started searching yet."

"Can you slip out without being seen?"

"Shouldn't be a problem."

"Good," Raven said. "Get out fast. I'll take care of the others. We'll meet up at the Mills Overlook again, until we can figure out where we're going."

"See you there."

Raven shut down the device and slid it onto her belt. "Bumblebee, can you support Robin's weight?" she asked. "I need both hands free."

"Yeah," Bumblebee answered, letting Robin lean uncomfortably on her.

Bright lights from the circling helicopters lit up a nearby corridor as the vehicles swept around the building. Raven raised both her hands into the air and her eyes flashed a powerful white. A magnificent spiralling orb of white appeared above their heads and rapidly expanded outward until it encapsulated each of them. And a mere second later, the entire thing collapsed into itself, revealing an empty room.

----------

Detective Crocker and Lieutenant Fischer leaned against one of the squad cars as Lieutenant Clancey calmly walked over.

"Any sign of them?" Fischer asked.

"None," Clancey replied, shaking his head. "The helicopters spotted a few of them a while ago, but since then no one's seen a thing. Looks like all of them got out."

"And the Brotherhood?" Crocker asked.

"We still don't know what to make of everything," Clancey answered. "The remains of a base of some kind were found up on the fourteenth floor. High yield explosives, automatic weapons and ammo, plus detailed biographies of the Titans and plans for the attacks on the prison and police station. At this point it's looking like the Titans can't be blamed for a lot of this."

Fischer snorted with contempt. "That still remains to be seen. Miller and Mayor Schwindt won't reverse their decision just like that."

"I know," Clancey continued. "But I'm just telling you that given what I saw up there, I don't blame the Titans for some of the actions they took. Either way, we'll let the politicians sort things out. In the meantime, we've got a few bodies that need to be pulled out."

"Yeah?" Fischer asked.

"We found Deadshot on the thirteenth floor, with a massive hole in his back. And Phobia's a few floors above that. From the looks of it she took quite a blast to the face. We've also got that metal guy who attacked the station. He was at the edge of the neighbouring building."

"How did he get there?" Crocker asked. "I don't remember hearing any other combat on the street."

"There was a hefty amount of damage on the fifth floor of that building, and the windows are shattered just above where he was found lying on the street, with cracks all around him. He definitely fell."

"And we've already got that woman who was fighting with you locked up," Fischer said to Crocker. "Do we know about any others?"

"No one else was seen," Clancey replied.

Crocker suppressed the urge to curse. He knew Gemini had somehow found a way to disappear and avoid any detection. No one else in the JCPD knew about her involvement, and he could not mention her without the risk of revealing his alliance with the Titans. For now he would be forced to keep quiet.

"Did you see anyone else?" Clancey asked toward Crocker.

"Other than the ones we already have?" Crocker replied. "No."

"Well there isn't much more we can do tonight," Clancey declared. "I'm going to order my officers back, and I'll leave the remainder of the search up to your detectives for now."

"Works for me," Lieutenant Fischer said. "I'm sure the next couple of days will be interesting for all of us. We'll just have to see what Miller and Schwindt decide to do."

----------

The coolness of the night served to somewhat lower the tension of the entire group. Raven stood alone at the edge of the hill, staring downward at the cityscape beneath. Though exhausted, she knew perfectly well at least one of them was required to remain awake, both to watch for danger and Cyborg's expected arrival. After Raven administered several individual healing sessions, Jinx and Robin steadily improved, at least enough for her to temporarily cease worrying. Jinx's wound, though serious, was quite simple to examine and treat—Robin was the enigma.

He had only very briefly gained consciousness, and demonstrated a particular disinterest and unwillingness to reveal exactly what was wrong. Though the burns on his chests were indeed still troublesome, they were not the source of his current situation. He was fighting something internally, wreaking havoc on his body and mind, but without a full range of equipment Raven would be unable to properly diagnose what was occurring.

She let her eyes longingly drift toward the bay, her vision settling on the nearly blackened Tower—their home. For the time being it was heavily occupied by JCPD, and for as long as Commission Miller and Mayor Schwindt proclaimed them to be vigilantes, it would no longer be a safe and welcoming place.

A rustling in the bushes caught her attention, but already Raven could feel Cyborg's presence before he slipped into view.

"Any updates on what's been happening?" Raven asked.

"Very little, I'm afraid," he replied. "JCPD searched the building for a little while longer and then moved out to the surrounding buildings. Robin's motorcycle has been impounded, by the way. But I did manage to catch a glimpse of Detective Crocker with other officers. Looks like his part in all this is going to stay a secret."

"I'm glad," Raven said. "We could use a friend on the inside."

"Sorry it took me a while to get here. I had to do some quick self-repairs. Plus it's hard to move on foot through the city, even at three o'clock in the morning." Cyborg looked behind Raven, over to where the others slept quietly on the grass. "How is everyone?"

"All things considered, not too bad. Kid Flash and Beast Boy just have pretty superficial injuries, and Jinx should recover in a short while. It's Robin I'm worried about. Remember how I told you something felt different about him? Well he's definitely going through something. He's not in any real danger right now, but he's going to need steady treatment to keep him from getting worse."

Cyborg took a deep breath. "I can tell you what's wrong with him."

"What?" Raven inquired. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know what he's going through."

"How long have you known?"

"You have to understand that I didn't say anything only because it would have been a dangerous thing to deal with during all this. And even though it is a pressing concern of mine, it paled in comparison to Beast Boy's disappearance and everything else."

"Tell me what it is, Cyborg."

Not knowing how she would react upon learning of Robin's secret drug addiction, Cyborg knew it was time to tell her. And it was at the very least a comforting thought to know that when he was done talking, Robin would have another friend who believed in him and was willing to do whatever was necessary to help him through the inevitable difficulties.

----------

Three Days Later

A fleeting breeze drifted amongst the Titans as they stood unwavering in the cool evening, the setting sun spreading orange and pink across the sky. Days had passed by rather uneventfully, and the mood was sombre. Raven had led the group well beyond the city's limits, into the fields and rocky hills that stood silently northward along the Pacific coast. There the group rested and recovered from the intensity unleashed by the New Brotherhood, giving the time necessary for each of their wounds to gradually lessen. Still there was much work to be done before Jinx or Robin would be ready to tackle even a minimal obstacle, but the groundwork had been laid.

Kid Flash slowly walked up to Raven and nudged her arm slightly, directing her a few steps to the side where they would be out of earshot of the others.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Of course," Raven answered.

"Why did you help Jinx?"

"What do you mean?"

"When she sided with the Brotherhood, you just had so much rage in you, and I know you were willing to do anything to stop her."

Raven shuddered at the comment, knowing he was right. "I was. But the only reason Jinx was doing any of that was because she thought you were dead."

"Yeah, but you didn't know that. So why suddenly help her without any hesitation? I was almost afraid you'd let her die."

"I helped her," Raven began, "because I could feel the uncertainty in her emotions. When she saw you, Jinx really was confused and unsure. There was no deceit, no sense of anger or betrayal. When I fought her she was filled with so much hate, and I couldn't understand why. I didn't even care why. But then all the anger vanished when she saw you, and she felt so remorseful for her actions. And even though I didn't know everything, I knew that she really wasn't with the Brotherhood at that moment."

"Has she said anything to you?"

"Her and I talked for a bit yesterday, and she apologized for attacking me and explained what Gemini and Phobia had done to her. I honestly forgive her for everything. And more importantly, I trust her."

Kid Flash smiled, the first time in the last few days. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Hey," Cyborg called to them. "Bee's ready."

Raven and Kid Flash returned to the group, where Bumblebee had finished putting together a small grave for Speedy. They had nothing concrete with which to commemorate him, no belongings or possessions. But with delicate care, Bumblebee had arranged a picturesque bed of flowers, filled with an assortment of colourful plants that could be scavenged from the surrounding fields, and then wrapped a line of white stones around the garden.

Even with the threat posed from the ongoing investigation by the JCPD into their current whereabouts, each of them had decided it was important to take the time to honour Speedy. Not many words were said while the wind ruffled the flower petals, but at the end Bumblebee stepped behind the garden and cleared her throat. Choking back tears she said,

"Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die."

Quietly she looked down at the flowers, lingered for several moments, and then walked back to the others. It was a long while before any of them could take their eyes away from the simple memorial.

----------

Later in the evening, once the sun had fully set and given way to a star filled night, Robin assembled the others for a discussion. "Since I know everyone is thinking about it, I thought it was time to talk," he said. "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't see why we can't just keep doing what we've always done," Cyborg remarked. "Jump City still needs us."

"I didn't want to speak for everyone," Robin answered. "Nothing's changed in the last few days, and we're still considered criminals."

"We know it's not going to be easy," Beast Boy stated. "But it's our home."

Raven turned to look at Jinx and Kid Flash. "You two shouldn't stay with us any longer. Central City hasn't made any decrees against you, but it still wouldn't be good to remain attached to us right now."

"Same goes for you Bumblebee," Robin agreed. "Given what's happened here, it might not be long before Steel City evaluates passing the same laws against the Titans East."

"I know," Bumblebee said. "I'm sure it's already being discussed."

"None of us are going to have an easy time," Raven remarked. "If we all decide to keep acting as we have done, to keep protecting our cities, then we'll need to be extremely careful what we do from here on out."

"And there's still the matter with Starfire," Beast Boy interjected. "We can't keep her locked up."

"I'm not sure what kind of a choice we have right now," Robin said sadly. "If there's any hope of reversing the law against us, we'll need to keep our image clean. Breaking Star out of prison isn't going to achieve that."

"Robin's right," Cyborg stated. "The best thing she can do is cooperate. It might help show the city that she's not an enemy."

"But we should still get in contact with her in some way," Raven said. "I can get close to the prison, and let her know that things are okay. And that we're still with her."

"Definitely," Cyborg agreed.

"We'll head back to Central City in the morning," Kid Flash said, turning to look at Jinx. "I'm sure word's reached them about everything happening here."

"The best thing we can do is meet with the mayor when we get back and see if things are still okay," Jinx added.

"What's going to happen to Titans East?" Beast Boy inquired.

"I honestly don't know," Bumblebee responded. "Without Speedy, we might not have enough to keep the team functioning."

"Just make sure you stay out East for now," Robin said. "Where you might not be affected by what's happening here. Let us take the heat." He paused, carefully rubbing the centre of his chest.

"Everything will be okay," Robin continued. "Our situation isn't very different from when Batman first started. For more than two years he was officially considered a vigilante, and all officers were ordered to shoot on sight. All he had was a single ally within the Gotham City police—Lieutenant Gordon. Right now we have Detective Crocker. He can keep us informed, and let us know when things are getting worse or better. There's still a city that needs protecting, and laws or not we're staying put."

----------

Beast Boy perched on the ledge of the small apartment building, careful to remain within the shadows of the large stone gargoyles flanking him on either side. The day was bright, and despite the fact that there were few places to truly remain hidden, even a green bird aroused very little suspicion. Of all the Titans, it was certainly most simple for him to sneak into the city limits. Though the others had been somewhat reluctant for Beast Boy to take such a risk for this particular task, they had easily relented. They knew just how important it was for him to do this. He had to see it for his own eyes.

Finally a loud bell rang, and minutes later crowds began filing out of the building across the road, groups of people laughing and sharing stories. He scanned the faces, the identical uniforms of white collared shirts and dark ties making it exceedingly difficult. And then he caught of glimpse on the far side of the courtyard, and peered carefully.

It was indeed her. Terra exited the school, walking quietly alongside two friends down the front steps. She looked exactly how Beast Boy had remembered her, and she looked genuinely happy. There was no fear, no terror. Phobia's image had been powerfully compelling and vivid, and even though Beast Boy wanted to believe that it was all an act, and that Terra had never been anywhere near the Brotherhood, there was a small part of him that would only believe it once he had seen her unharmed.

Beast Boy smiled at the sight. Yes, she was okay. And with that knowledge, perhaps he would be okay too. As the sun's rays shone down upon the city, Beast Boy flapped his small wings and soared upward into the sky, happy to know that even though things change, happiness could still exist.

----------

And that's the end of my Teen Titans trilogy. I really hope everyone enjoyed this story. I know I didn't wrap everything up nicely in the final chapter, but in a lot of ways it's more realistic for problems to still exist. If nothing else I hope the story was believable.

Let me know what you all think about it. And once again, thank you to everyone who took the time to leave a review. It motivated me to keep writing.


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